Weapon of Mass Creation
by KimiruMai
Summary: Chikyuu no longer exists. A scientist must serve her world's killer, creating the technology to destroy others in the same fashion. A trapped man must fight for his freedom, when his powerful Ki is not his own to wield. Soul mates are brought together and torn apart, trust is betrayed, and legends are born amidst a grueling war in which no one is spared.
1. Start of the End

**Guess who's BAAAAAAACK.**

**Okay, so I never left. But guess who has another story for her wonderful readers?**

**Yes, it's the all fabulous KimiruMai!**

**I still find it hilarious that my penname started out as one of my OC's. She was a sort of were-cat, strong as a Super Saiyan, even. Of course since that was my first story my writing technique was still crap, but hey, it's only been…what, 7 months? 8? Anyhow, here's that story I've been promising in my poll!**

**Summary: After Chikyuu is screened and destroyed, Bulma is forced to to build advanced weapons to help destroy worlds just as hers was. As she does so, she finds a trapped man who's energy isn't his to command, who holds the key to ending a war that promises to last far longer than many lifetimes. She must find her way in a muddled world of legend and truth, refuge and retreat, war and bloodshed. In a game of war and deception, she must decide who she can trust, who is her enemy, and who she can love in a universe where the lines between good and evil aren't always so easy to decipher.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Please enjoy my new story.**

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**Weapon of Mass Creation**

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**Chapter 1: Start of The End.**

It was not the most fantastic of situations.

The lab was beautiful, complete with every possible tool she could ever need in her life. Anything from screwdrivers and wrenches to wires and test tubes, you name it, and this lab had it. It was enormous, even for the large amount of people working there. It was modern, and though it wasn't brightly colored, the grey metal was just shiny enough to look spiffy.

But it was still not the most fantastic of situations.

She had been given a day's rest, no more, no less, before she was ruthlessly dragged into this marvelous place that she loathed with all her being. She was given safety goggles and a white lab coat with a high, foldable collar, dark blue pants, ugly, ankle high shoes that could pass for white, shoelace-less high-top sneakers with gold tipped toes, latex gloves, and a ponytail holder.

Before she had been permitted that day's rest, however, or access to the Mega-Lab, she had been beaten, tied down to an examining table, and given sedatives that knocked her out cold for hours. When she awoke, she was in a tank recuperating; suddenly everyone on the ship spoke English, and there was a very small scar at the top of her head.

She was just thankful that they hadn't taken away her memories.

She was so furious and depressed and just broken, she wanted to scream and throw a hissy fit and let them kill her. But no, they wouldn't do that. They would simply proceed to beat her within an inch of her life, put her in a tank, and get her back to work. She was not allowed to die, not until she had caused enough trouble to reach Frieza himself.

It never did reach him, of course. No one was willing to be the messenger, so they handled it themselves. After a while, Bulma stopped trying.

She worked nonstop all day, every day, only getting an hour off to eat and five minutes every 4 hours for a bathroom break. She was to awaken at precisely seven in the morning, go and eat her breakfast and report to the lab by 8:00 sharp, not a second early and not a second late. After working her twelve hour shift of relentlessly inventing things, she left the lab at 8:00, went for dinner, and had to be in her room by 9:00.

If you were out a second past then, the soldiers were allowed to do as they pleased with you.

It went like that for days upon days until Bulma had lost count of the time that had passed since she came to this hell-hole. Frieza's ships used what was called Standard Universal Time, and she had no idea as to how that would relate to Chikyuu's. Besides that, remembering how long it had been since her capture _hurt_. By Standard Time, she had been on the ship for a month.

She had made acquaintances, not friends.

"Bulma, you need to finish that."

She blinked and looked up from her work, which she had been staring at with unfocused eyes as she went over the past…month? that she'd been there. "Hm? Oh, sorry, Citadel. I'm just a little bit tired."

Citadel – the main scientist in Mega-Lab. He was in his mid-thirties, though he didn't look it, handsome, average height, and very stern with his work. He was from the planet Zasshuken-sei, and his people were called Aeshu-jins. He had chocolate brown hair that fell to his shoulders, which he always wore in a short ponytail at the base of his neck. He had long, pointed ears like a faery, and soft brown, cat-like eyes. He had copper-brown skin and pointed nails that went just past the edge of his fingertips, which were surprisingly not as intimidating as she had originally thought. His canines were sharp, though in an almost gentle way, and the sweet man didn't have a mean bone in his body…

Unless you were procrastinating. Citadel _hated_ procrastinators with a passion.

His sharp gaze softened ever so slightly, though he didn't look at her. After all, that would convey that he was concerned. "Didn't you go to sleep at Lights Out last night?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, picking up a screwdriver-like tool and tweaking the machine part in front of her. "I just didn't sleep well."

"Well, you need to get that fixed, love," he said, as if it were some type of mechanical failure. "I don't want my inventions screwed up because you couldn't get some shut-eye."

Translation: Poor dear. I hope those nightmares stop soon.

Over the past month, Bulma and Citadel had developed a sort of code. The two had got along from the start, what with their intense love of machinery and vast knowledge on the subject. The code was so that no one would think that there might be some type of bond between them.

After all, it was unwise to have "friends". Acquaintances were much better, safer.

"I'll work on that, Citadel," she huffed, somewhat agitatedly.

Translation: Thanks, but I doubt it.

She suddenly smiled a large, though halfhearted smile as she realized that she had finally fixed the part she was working on. She held it up to Citadel, who thoroughly inspected it and grinned. "Well done," he praised. He took it gingerly from her hands, as if it would break into a million pieces at the slightest jolt, and swiftly carried it over to his main desk, where a beautifully monstrous contraption sat. Citadel quickly put the piece on the gun and screwed it on.

"It's done!" he announced.

The scientist in Mega Lab cheered and patted Bulma on the back.

"Ready to do the first test run, Miss Briefs?"

The speaker's name is Chalin. He was short, with greying red hair, salamander-brown, scaly skin, and big purple eyes. His nose fit more into the muzzle category, favoring a Komodo dragon, and he had webbed fingers with short black claws.

"Yes," she said, though she wasn't really.

Citadel picked up the gun, cleverly dubbed M.A.C.E.

Missile Armed Cannon Explosive.

It was a gun for the larger fighters, one's with the more abundant muscle mass. It was a hefty over-the-shoulder attack launcher, and it fired missiles of multiple sizes and Ki Balls with adjustable densities. It was for soldiers who couldn't bring Ki out on their own; apparently, only Elites could actually use Ki without the aid of a weapon.

This fact still stunned her, because it meant that Elites had been sent to purge Chikyuu; which was strange, since Chikyuujins were apparently much weaker than even substantially powerless aliens in the universe.

Actually, Chikyuu had not been purged. It had been _screened_. In the same way miners screened dirt for gold, or the way apples were screened to separate rotten fruits, humans were screened to see who would provide the most use to Frieza. Pretty people were either sent to his personal quarters, never to be seen again, or to the harem, where the longest recorded time a person of any species had stayed alive was three months. People like pilots and map makers were kept for directory services, mechanics for shuttle repairs, doctors for medical assistance, and scientist like her were brought to fix or create weapons. No elderly, sickly, or crippled were accepted, no matter how great their skills.

Only 14 humans had been deemed truly worthy. Her parents were not among them. Bulma was one of the three people who hadn't been sent to the bed chambers. She was the only scientist, and she was the only Chikyuujin still alive. Even if there had been survivors left on the planet, hidden away safely, they were no more as well. After a troop of soldiers had died of malaria in the jungles, the blue gem had been efficiently blasted out of space.

Tears burned at her eyes as she thought about how horribly her home had been destroyed, and it truly broke her heart that she was helping the Cold Army inflict this horror on others. But it was the only way to stay alive, the only way to keep working long enough to figure out some scientific way to take down the lizard tyrant.

She had never seen Frieza, and from the descriptions, she hoped it never happened. Not until she was ready.

It still shocked her numb that Goku had not appeared out of the blue to save them all. Goku always saved them. She hadn't seen him in five years, but somehow she immediately assumed he would be there to save her. His name was the first thing that had popped into her mind as a soldier had burst into her home and took her away. She hadn't seen what happened to her parents, only that her home had been set on fire before the soldier flew her too far away to see it anymore.

Why hadn't Goku come?

Citadel hefted the M.A.C.E. over his shoulder and stepped into the test room, every scientist in the lab following. They stood behind a protective shield, surrounding Bulma as they watched eagerly. Citadel's lips quirked up in an excited smile as his index finger hovered over the trigger. It was dangerous to be in the testing room; other labs had robots to test their weapons, but Citadel always wished to do it himself.

He was very brave, in that aspect.

He fired the M.A.C.E., and a small missile shattered the red target into pieces. A second later, a small Ki ball completely disintegrated the next, and both left dents in the metal walls. The entire team burst into cheers and whoops (except Bulma). After all, the fact that it worked on the first try meant that they wouldn't die today, and they might even get a few extra credits in their accounts for finishing early.

Bulma did not care about credits. Even though she had only been here roughly a month, her superior intelligence had placed her as "second in command" of Mega Lab, only one position under Citadel. Her account already had 400,000 credits in it – at that rate, she'd be a millionaire (again) in a little less than two months.

How ironic.

People like Chalin and Citadel had accepted their fates. While they would break away in a heartbeat if given the chance, they were content to do the work they were born to do, so long as they weren't in Frieza's presence. They did their jobs somewhat cheerfully; after being here for years, they had learned to look at the bright side of things for the sake of their sanity.

Not Bulma. She was going to keep the hatred in her heart so she could remember her purpose. She was not a tool to be used to conquer the universe. She was a person. And even if it killed her, God forbid, she would find some way to stop the tyranny. She would find a way to end Frieza.

"Bulma?"

She blinked and looked up. "Hm?"

Citadel grinned at her, clearly pleased that his idea for such a machine had worked so well. "You finished the last piece of the M.A.C.E.. Would you like to present it to Frieza?"

The look of horror on her face was unmistakable. Bulma's small fists clenched at her sides, and she gaped at him for a moment, eyes wide with panic. "No," she whispered. "No. You do it."

He frowned a little, then nodded understandingly.

While the rest of the team continued cheering and celebrating, Bulma darted back to her worktable and furiously began working on another project. She worked blindly, letting the feel of metal in her hands drive away all thoughts of meeting with the monster who had stolen her life and replaced it with that of a robot. Her blue eyebrows furrowed tightly, and she breathed heavily as she worked. Anything, _anything_, to get that lizard out of her head. Oh, how glad she was that she had never seen him, for she would surely faint and have nightmares about his face were it to ever happen.

And she wished that someone would come and rescue her, tell her that it was all a joke. She wished that someone would shake her and say, wake up, you're in a coma, and she would open her eyes and stare at the ugly cream ceilings of a hospital. A nurse would come and say, honey, you hit your head on a falling ladder, or honey, you only fell down the stairs, and her parents would show up and smile at her. They would say, dear, let's go home, and her mom would make her cookies and her dad would show her the newest generation of Hoi Poi Capsules. She would take a shower with soaps that smelled of strawberries and put on her favorite pajamas, and she would sleep.

And when she woke up, she would resume her stupid, pointless, lifelong dream that some dashing handsome Prince would come and sweep her off her feet, and she wouldn't have a care in the world.

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**A/N: I'm gonna do it. I swear, I am. NO VEGETA FOR KIMIRU! I am trying to keep him from appearing till chapter three, so I can actually develop this. I can do it, I can do it!**

**Dammit, this is difficult.**

**But ya'll love me for it. Ooh, this chapter is short. But all first chapters are. I think maybe this story will be long but less wordy, but eh, you know me. I can't predict myself worth crap.**

**TIME TO BREAK OUT THE OC'S.**

**~KimiruMai**


	2. Twin Telepaths and Seers

**This chapter just about killed me. Life is seriously boring without Vegeta or Zuko, guys. (I've gone on an ATLA craze lately).**

**Anyway, I can't believe how long this took me. It was terrible. At some point I seriously wanted to hit my head against the wall. I do have an excuse; I'm working on a chapter of TOL (which is so stinking long I'll have to make it into two parts), and the first chapter of Paranormal Sensitivity, **_**and**_** I get randomly inspired for my little drabble stories (Simplest Memories, Taste and Touch, etc.) You know what I'm supposed to be doing right now? Working on a very important piece of art (to me, anyhow). But my mind is in writing mode, so you guys better be happy.**

**Disclaimer: Insert clever comment here about the absurdity of needing disclaimers on a site call FanFiction.**

**Song Prompt: Stop and Stare - One Republic**

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**Chapter 2: Twin Telepaths and Seers.**

Day in, day out. It was all the same. Time meant nothing to her; it was merely a unit, and sometimes an inconvenience. A meaningless way to tell how long she'd stayed alive here, when she'd rather have died with her people.

Besides, Frieza did not train. She had oodles of time.

But she hurried, nonetheless.

Lights on. Get dressed. Breakfast, don't be late. Lab, don't be late. Lunch; hurry, don't be late. Lab. Dinner, don't be late, lab. Lights out. If you value your life at all, _do not _be_ late_.

Bulma hated alien soldiers. They were ugly, barbaric, and crude. They were empty headed monsters. Just last night, she had awoken to the screams of an unfortunate woman who hadn't made it to her room in time. Bulma didn't bother getting up to help, for the screams were abruptly cut off in a manner that meant a neck had been snapped. Either way, screaming wouldn't have helped the woman. Screaming only attracts more soldiers. This was why Bulma had taken to carrying a small gun strapped to her shin at all times.

It had been three days since the successful testing of the MACE. Since then, Bulma had drawn blueprints until her hand hurt, calculated frequencies and calibrated energy until her head hurt, worked until her eyes burned with the need for sleep. Her nights were rarely peaceful or uninterrupted; if screaming victims did not rouse her, her nightmares would surely do the trick. As a result, she was always tired. It was not, however, the kind of exhaustion that would have her head nodding as she fought to remain awake, but instead the kind that played with her sanity like some kind of sick chew toy. She knew that if her exhaustion were to delay her or cause her to make a mistake, it could be fatal.

So, while she struggled to resist the urge to sleep, she also struggled against the urge to panic, which quite nearly tripled her stress levels.

But still she worked, and without a word of complaint. After all, the things she was slowly being taught as time progressed could be useful one day. Why waste such a golden opportunity?

Citadel was some comfort, though it wasn't exhibited openly. While no cameras watched the scientist work (footage of the tech had the capability of being stolen), guards listened closely to expose any form of weakness or plan of rebellion. Just yesterday, a new apprentice of Citadel's had been removed from the lab and "mysteriously disappeared" after daring to utter the words, "I hate him".

"Bulma," Citadel called.

The Chikyuujin blinked, the voice of the head scientist bringing her out of her daydreams. "Yes?"

"I need you to test something for me," Citadel said.

Bulma swallowed and stood up from her table, running her gloved hands down the sides of her lab coat as if they were dirty. "What is it?"

The head scientist tucked a stray lock of dark brown hair behind his pointed ear absentmindedly, and held up the object. "This is a new form of Ki reducer," he said, and held up a small, oval-shaped black stone. It had a smooth texture, but the thin layer of material that covered it was just barely see-through, and Bulma could see the advanced nanotechnology that seemed to be alive, moving, and pulsing underneath. "Basically, if you press this button on the top" - She looked, and saw nothing - "and hold it against skin, it turns into a bracelet that wraps around your arm, embeds itself in your nervous system, and drains your Ki from there. It can adjust its length according to wrist size, and it can tighten to the point of breaking your wrist if you try to remove it."

Bulma stared at him, horrified.

Citadel sighed, looking somewhat defeated. "Frieza...requested it personally."

Bulma closed her mouth, which she realized was open, and sighed. She knew what that meant. It meant that Citadel's young wife, who was a nurse in the infirmary, had been threatened with startlingly detailed description, just in case the scientist had any ideas about disobeying.

"Alright," Bulma said, a reluctant breath escaping her lips. "Who do you want me to test it on?"

"Prisoner #243," he said, handing her a few other items. "There's the code to unlock the door, and here's a little cleaning kit to wash 'im off, God knows he's probably filthy, and here's the remote for his collar, equipped with a Ki monitor, and -" he cut off suddenly, starting at her. "What's the matter, love?"

Bulma swallowed, taking it nervously. "P...prisoner? As in, down in the Cellar, prisoner?"

He nodded. "Of course. What else did you think I meant?"

"Isn't that...dangerous?"

"I have a guard assigned to escort you. He's probably already waiting," Citadel said. When her panicked expression only seemed to worsen, he added, "Ingo is a good kid. He won't hurt you."

She swallowed again and took the small stone, miniature kit, and remote. "Alright. If you say so." Her voice did not convey the same amount of faith that her words did, but the head scientist didn't know any other way to console her. Ingo really was different from the rest of the soldiers, but there would be no convincing her of that until she met him.

"Thanks, love," he said, patting her shoulder. "Oh, and here's the key, just in case. Just tuck the end into the single end of the bracelet to remove it." With that, he handed her a black piece of metal that reminded Bulma of the can-openers on a pocketknife, spun on his heel, and headed back to his work.

Bulma sighed. Why did Citadel always have to give her the "fun" jobs? Couldn't he send somebody else? Chalin could go, couldn't he?

No matter what Citadel said about this so called 'gentle guard', that did not make the Cellar any less dangerous. It was called the Cellar for a reason; all the worst types of hood-rats, criminals, failed assassins, psychopaths, and people that Frieza just didn't like, all buried deep in the bowels of the Mothership, collecting dust like old forgotten furniture. It was the scientists' job, then, to make sure that those hoodlums had no chance of escape by whatever means necessary. That included Ki reducers, energy enhanced doorways, shock-collars, and the like.

Biting her lip nervously, but remembering full well how irritated her 'boss' got at the prospect of procrastinators, she hurriedly left the lab and practically flew down the hallways. Her blue eyes locked on the safe doors that hid the elevator, that one place outside her room, lab, or the cafeteria that wasn't life threatening...

Unless someone was inside.

Bulma's finger slammed on the Up button with heavy force, and when it didn't open immediately, she nearly panicked and quickly started hitting it again. She had completely forgotten the weapon that was strapped to her shin. She glanced behind her multiple times, her eyes wide with fear that she might see someone behind her each time. She trembled, and upon this realization, she stuck the stone, key, and other objects in her pockets, knowing the consequences of dropping the precious invention.

Then the elevator door opened.

Bulma shrieked when her eyes, instead of falling on the metal walls of the elevator, fell on a sleek white breastplate with golden trim. On instinct, she looked up at the wearer's face, fearing that she would see one of the nameless soldiers that prowled the ship during the night hours, and was surprised to find quite the opposite.

The man was young, her age, perhaps, give or take a year. He was tall, and had youthful features that were naturally (though softly) tanned, and stick straight, waist length silver hair that looked as if it were made of the softest silk, each defined strand shining with gloss that would make any human jealous. Atop his head were very large, fuzzy ears that resembled those of a Siberian Husky, and his teeth, which she noticed due to his mouth hanging open with surprise, were long, sharp, and pointed. He was handsome, with piercing green eyes that weren't quite yet hardened from years at war, and his lips were slightly quirked in what looked like a permanent smile, or perhaps a smirk.

"Hey, wait!" he cried, seeing she was about to bolt. His hand, large like a wolf's paw, closed around her arm with ease; he was fast.

Bulma screamed when she felt his iron grip - yes, he was strong, too. _So_, she thought, _this is it. It's finally happening to me._ _Should have known it was coming eventually. It was only a matter of time._

"Please," she begged, heavy tears falling down her cheeks. "Please, please don't. I'm s-supposed to be test-ting something for M-mega Lab, I -"

"You're Bulma?" he asked.

She nodded meekly, wondering how he knew.

He heaved a sigh of relief and released her. "Oh, good. I was worried I was going to have to look for you, and I still haven't memorized my way around this part of the ship." The man grinned sheepishly, and scratched the back of his neck with his gloved hand. "Citadel said I was supposed to take you to the Cellar. He'd be furious if I couldn't find you right away."

"You...you're Ingo?" she asked, her fear lessening.

"The one and only," he said, his upper lip lifting over one of his fangs ever so slightly. "Citadel's my half-cousin, so I know what happens if he gets pissed at you."

Bulma blinked, brushing her tears away. "He's your cousin?"

"Half," he said again. "His father was my mother's step-brother."

She glanced at his ears, and he shrugged. "I'm Hasukī-jin, he's Aeshu-jijn. My blood is more mixed than his."

Bulma could only nod mutely, never having thought before that alien species might have more than one race like humans did. Her heart still hammered in her chest, and her hands still shook from her scare. "Can we just go now?"

He nodded and turned back to the elevator, and they both slipped inside, the door closing with a painfully familiar "DING!" as they both were suddenly focused on the job once again.

"So," Ingo said, clearing his throat. "How long've you been here?"

She swallowed, memories flashing behind her closed lids as she shut her eyes for a moment. Something sharp stabbed in her chest as she sucked in her breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know."

Ingo frowned. "You don't -"

"It hurts remembering," she whispered. "I just stopped keeping count because it reminded me of...the place I left."

He fell silent for a minute, then said, "I've been here for two years, seven months, and sixteen days."

She blinked at the precise account. "How do you survive?" she asked quietly, stunned.

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "You wake up and remember that you've got so many more things to do in life. Remind yourself that there was a time when you didn't want to die young. Remember that your brother is _totally_ screwed without you."

For the first time in a long time, a small smile stretched across her ruby lips.

With another ding, the elevator doors slid open, revealing the dark entryway to the Cellar. The dull sounds of males fighting (female criminals were always immediately killed for some reason), bodies slamming against metal, and groans echoed in the large space, and Bulma shuddered as the cold air hit her full force.

"Which prisoner?" Ingo asked as he stepped out.

"Number 243," Bulma asked, following. "Aren't there any lights in here?"

Ingo reached over and flipped a switch, and a row of dull lights flickered on overhead. Almost immediately, the prisoners fell silent.

The Cellar wasn't the prettiest of places. The walls were a dull, depressing grey that seemed especially boring when compared to the surprisingly colorful walls of the upper Mothership. The air felt damp, cold, and sickly, immediately nauseating the Chikyuujin scientist. There were long, thin hallways that seemed to go on for a long time, and the cells lined the walls. It was much like an Chikyuujin jail cell, except that nearly everything was painted black, even the floor. The cells were about the same size as the ones on Chikyuu, maybe a little bit bigger, and the black, barred doors sizzled with sparkling energy whenever one of the prisoners took a step too close. The dull lights only reached a little ways past the bars, leaving the farthest corners of the cells dark. In between each cage-like room, there was a small dial pad, one for each cell, which one would use to enter the codes to open it.

Bulma frowned as she gazed at the place, feeling slightly nauseated and clammy. She wrung her hands together as she started forward, eventually reaching into her pocket to feel the smooth stone that glimmered with tech just underneath the thin layer of black stone.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Ingo asked, scratching behind his furry ear. The sight was amusing, but it didn't make her any less nervous.

"N-no," she said, "It's against policy. No one outside the lab is supposed to see the testing. Besides…if he got out, then you'd have to catch him, right?"

Ingo shrugged and folded his muscled arms, leaning against the wall. "I guess," was all he said.

Bulma nodded briskly and turned to face her destination, taking a deep breath before she started walking again. The second she had passed the first cells, hoots and hollers from the males behind the bars echoed throughout the entire place. Bulma winced, her hair standing on end, suddenly wishing that she was wearing a hoodie. She dipped her head as she went by, her bangs and now raised jacket collar hiding most of her face. When the hoots didn't cease or deplete, it hit her. It didn't matter if she was the ugliest creature in the known universe; these men hadn't seen a woman in who knows how long, and they'd want her regardless of looks.

It also struck her that some of the stranger species might view her as hideous anyway. It was a slightly disturbing thought, at first; Bulma was a vain creature, and old habits die hard. Then she realized that she should be upset that any of them might see her as _pretty_.

"You alright?" Ingo called as she walked further away.

"I…I guess so," she called back.

She wasn't, really, but she couldn't very well call him to assist her. Rules were rules, and she had no interest in being called out by Frieza for breaking them. She'd only known this man for a few minutes, and she had no idea how trust worthy he was. She'd have to do this on her own, and just hope that Prisoner #243 didn't attack her.

She walked for what seemed like an agonizingly long time, thought it couldn't have been more that three minutes. In all honesty, she was absolutely terrified, but Bulma Briefs was no coward; she had dealt with fear before, and she'd just have to do it again.

God in Heaven, this was scary.

After taking one turn and walking a little ways down yet another long hallway, she finally made it to cell #52B, where Prisoner #243 was kept. The hooting criminals (if one could separate prisoners from the "above ground" soldiers) had finally quieted their hooting after she pulled out the gun that she always kept strapped to her shin (she'd remembered it suddenly), but it hadn't escaped her notice that 52B had been completely silent even before the weapon had been drawn.

_Oh God, please don't let him be one of the insane ones, _she prayed.

Swallowing her fear, Bulma entered in the numbers Citadel had given her. The electrified doors powered down quickly, and Bulma pushed the sliding doors open with a loud sound that resembled train tracks, quickly shutting it behind her. The bars seemed especially dull without the soft electric light.

The man that was supposed to be her test subject sat far back into the right corner of the cell, hidden in the shadows. Bulma could only see his feet, which were clad in a very old version of boots of a low level soldier, with dark bootlegs and green tipped toes. On top of the boots there was a thick, red material, which Bulma assumed were shin guards. The fact that they were low level boots relaxed her a little bit; she might (maybe) survive a punch from this guy, since he had a collar on and all.

Spread out partially over and partially underneath the man, there was a long, dark black cloak that probably would have reached his heels if he stood. He shifted as she entered, and Bulma caught a glimpse of tan, muscled flesh underneath torn blue pant legs, a shade darker than the normal soldier wear. His extremely outdated clothes made her wonder how old he was, and if it was sensible to test such a powerful Ki reducer on a low level.

"Um, excuse me -" she started.

"Hello," the man said. "I've been waiting for you. Bulma, right?"

_Oh God, I'm a goner. WHO TOLD THIS PSYCHO I WAS COMING?_

He chuckled at the look on her face, which, for some reason, seemed to calm her. "I saw it. I always see when people come down here."

Bulma frowned. Obviously, this man had a few screws loose.

"I'm guessing you want me to test something?" he asked, still not moving from his position.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you _see_ that too?" she demanded.

He chuckled again. "No. You're wearing a lab coat, and you're in my cell. S'not rocket science."

She blushed heavily. "Hm. Guess not. Anyhow, yes, I am here to test something. So…if you'd please come here - "

"Why don't _you_ come here?" the man asked haughtily. "Are you frightened?"

She scowled, suddenly feeling spunky the more he talked. "No, but I'd like to be able to see what I'm doing. Now, if you'd please -"

"Feisty, ain'tcha?" he interrupted. "I like that. Reminds me of my wife. Sassy little bitch, she was," he said, and his voice made it sound as if he were smiling.

"Well, I'm sure she was," Bulma said impatiently. "Now, if we could please get on with this experiment so I can get out of here?"

He didn't move, and though she couldn't see his face, Bulma could swear he was grinning.

"You think you're brave, Little Girl," he said. "You think you can last long enough to think of something _creative_ to end all of this. Surely, then, you can last a few moments in the dark."

_How did he…?_

"Look, I'm going to be honest," she said, somewhat carefully. "You creep me out, and it's barely been two minutes. You're nuts if you think I'm coming back there."

"But isn't it foolish to bring the prisoner closer to the unlocked door?" he mocked.

Bulma glared at the shape in the corner. "I don't like you," she decided out loud, then flinched as she realized that she had said something that might just get her killed.

"I don't like you, either," was the amused reply.

_Yup, definitely one of the insane ones._

"I've got a guard waiting to catch you if you escape," she threatened.

He just snorted.

"I've got a gun in my hand, too."

"I know."

"D'you _see_ that?"

"I saw that you always carry a weapon. That's smart of you, Little Girl."

"My name, as you clearly already know, is not Little Girl. Don't address me like that."

He chuckled again. "Well," he said, "I can see you aren't totally dead yet. But I'll not humor you, Little Girl. I don't much like being ordered around."

Bulma glared at him, then yelled, "INGO!"

"WHAT'S WRONG?" he called back.

"CAN'T YOU TURN UP THESE STUPID LIGHTS ANY?"

There was silence, then a loud click. The lights flickered and brightened…but only very slightly. She looked to the prisoner and saw that now, she could just barely make out the dull colors on his armor, but he was still heavily shadowed. And he was smirking.

_Ass,_ she thought.

"THAT'S AS HIGH AS IT GOES," Ingo hollered.

"ALRIGHT," she called, exasperated.

The prisoner snorted again. "A _guard_, eh? Foolish Little Girl. You've only brought a pup to take on a beast."

She looked at him, irritated. As afore mentioned, she didn't see much more of him than she had before. His armor appeared to be dark blue, perhaps black, and green (yet another old style), but most of it was covered by that cloak that was draped around his shoulders. The dark hood hid most of his face, leaving only a strong jawline and a half serious, half smirking mouth. On his left cheek, she saw a jagged mark of what must have been a vicious scar, but she couldn't tell if that was a trick of the dull light or not.

"Well, Prisoner 243 -"

"Satoru," he interrupted her (again).

"Satoru," Bulma said through gritted teeth, "Can I test this now?"

"Dunno. _Can_ you?"

"Alright, you know what -"

"I'm only messing with you, Little Girl. Calm down."

Bulma took a deep breath and let it out slowly, slowly counting to ten in her head as she gave up and moved closer to Satoru. "I need to take off your collar now, so please behave." By behave, she meant, don't bolt for the door.

She held out the remote and pressed the red release button, and the collar beeped, snapping open loudly and sliding off. He caught it just before he hit his lap, and, to her surprise, handed it to her without another mocking word.

"Hm, that feels so much better," he murmured, more to himself than to her, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"What?" she asked, almost on impulse.

"My Ki," he answered. "S'been a while."

Suddenly, Bulma felt bad for the guy. While he was no doubt out of his mind, he didn't seem all that bad. "Sorry," she said without thinking.

He just shrugged.

"I… I need you to hold out your arm now, please," Bulma said.

Surprising her once again, he held out his arm, somewhat obediently, which was adorned with red guards like his shins.

"You'll, uh, have to take that off," she said, losing some of her bravado now that she was closer.

He complied and held out his arm again, and it struck her how massive this man must be. His large hand was halfway curled into a relaxed fist, wrist bent in what appeared to be a compliant, somewhat submissive manner. His arms were heavily muscled without being bulky, which she guessed meant he trained when no one was watching, else he'd have been scrawny and thin. Even so, no doubt he would be slightly malnourished, and his hand was at least three times the size of hers.

"What are you down here for?" she asked as she reached for the cleaning kit Citadel had given her.

"Same as most of the other morons in here," he answered. "Trying to kick Frieza's ass."

She blinked, and chuckled at how nonchalantly he had said it, as if it were the most trivial matter. "I'm surprised he didn't kill you," she said, wiping the dust from his arm.

"You and me both," he replied. "Coulda sworn I was a goner."

"I've never seen him," she admitted. "I only heard the stories."

"For your sake, Little Girl, I hope it stays that way," Satoru grunted. "Ugly bastard," he muttered.

She decided not to ask what he looked like, thinking it was safer for her already nightmare ridden mind. Besides, considering how loopy he was (attacking Frieza, in her humble opinion, only further proved her suspicions), he'd probably describe some weak low level soldier to her instead.

"Okay," she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the stone and key. "Ready?"

"No," he answered honestly.

Bulma frowned, and pressing her thumb on the top of the stone, held it to his wrist.

What happened after she did this startled her so much that she almost shrieked. Before she or Satoru could even gasp, the "stone" shuddered and pulsed, transforming into a slithery shape, with one long end that, once reaching the middle, split into two slightly shorter ends. It slithered up his arm quickly, until one end barely touched his hand and the other was just below his elbow, upon which one end wrapped snugly around his forearm and the other around his wrist. It pulsed once more before there was a sound that resembled dozens of tiny swords being sheathed. Satoru opened his mouth, and something like a combination of a hiss and a yelp of pain escaped his throat as he jumped and gripped his arm.

Bulma looked on in horror as he doubled over, groaning in pain and breathing heavily. His muscles jerked slightly, and Bulma knew that the bracelet had fulfilled its purpose.

"How does you Ki feel?" Bulma asked, checking the monitor.

"Like shit, what do you think?" Satoru gasped.

Bulma sighed. "It looks like it's doing its job, but it still needs a little work. Citadel would want it to activate more quickly. I might have to come down and test it again."

"Superb," he drawled sarcastically. "Why does this one hurt so damn much?"

"It attaches to your nervous system."

"Of course it does."

Bulma sighed, and after monitoring his Ki for a few more moments, removed the strange bracelet, which promptly folded itself back into a rock. She put all her things in her giant pockets, then picked up Satoru's collar and stood. "Hold still please," she said in a very business-like tone.

Satoru lifted his chin, and Bulma carefully snapped the collar around his neck. Just as she did so, she looked down at his face. Dark brown eyes that had a sort of tough softness stared back at her for a moment before he dropped his head abruptly. She did not catch any more of his features.

"I might be back," she said again. "I don't want any more of that funny business next time, understood?"

"But of course, Mon' Capitan!" he said, saluting dramatically.

Bulma glared at him then stepped outside and locked the doors, which fizzled to life with energy. She was about to turn and leave, but Satoru suddenly said, "Hey."

She turned and blinked at him. "What?"

"Tell that Citadel guy I'm sorry about his wife."

Bulma's eyes widened, and she couldn't help the worry that washed over her then. She abruptly turned and fled down the hall, trying to put the strange man's words out of her head.

He was crazy. That's all.

Ingo seemed a bit concerned when Bulma returned walking as fast as she was. He did not, however, ask what was wrong, because frankly, he wasn't supposed to care. They were acquaintances, not friends.

Bulma thought it was safer that way.

* * *

Bulma returned to the lab and asked Citadel how his wife was doing. She felt relieved when he said that she was doing well. Days went by, with Citadel tinkering away at the bracelet furiously, and Bulma hadn't yet visited Satoru again. She soon forgot about his strange warning, and focused only on her jobs. She saw Ingo sometimes, and they talked a bit. He was cocky, humorously sarcastic, and sharp tongued. Bulma liked him.

But then, one day, Citadel did not show up for work. He was gone for nearly a week, and when Bulma saw him, he was no longer his cheerful self. His hair seemed flat and lifeless, there were bags under his horribly red eyes, and he didn't say a word much of the whole day.

"Citadel," Bulma said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, then relaxed visibly when he saw it was only her. "Yes, love?"

"Can I talk to you in private during lunch?"

He stared at her for a minute, then nodded. Bulma smiled gently at him and went to finish her work. Her pace was slow the rest of the day.

They met in his room (the halls weren't safe), which was slightly bigger than hers, though not by much. Citadel sat on the floor cross-legged, and buried his face in his hands. "She's gone," he whispered.

Sula. His wife's name had been Sula. She had died, killed by Frieza's hands.

Bulma had only met her once, but she knew that Sula had been a beautiful soul. Like Citadel, she had always remained chipper, with sparkling green eyes and full lips that revealed a perfect set of teeth when she smiled. Her hair had been a shade lighter than her husband's and much further down her back, her nails a bit longer, and her ears a bit more round. She had always closed her eyes for a moment when she smiled, and it had reminded Bulma so much of her mother that it hurt.

"I don't understand what I did wrong," Citadel choked. "I did everything he said. I built everything he asked me for, and he still killed her."

Bulma felt a heavy pang in her heart as she sat down beside him and gave him a hug. "I'm so sorry, Citadel. I'm so sorry." She patted his back and hummed a soothing song, and not another word was spoken the entire time. They would stay that way the entire lunch period, with Bulma crying tears of empathy into his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

* * *

That night, as Bulma walked to her dorm from the lab, she found herself brushing away heavy tears that had been threatening to spill for a long time. She would not really notice that she had been walking a bit slowly until she heard the soft beep from her watch. It was then that she realized with great horror that she had been out past 9:00.

She started to run.

Corner, hallway, turn, run faster, hallway, turn, corner, _faster Bulma_ -

She crashed into the man. She didn't see him, that one second she had turned to look behind her counted for everything. He caught her wrist, grinned a toothless grin at her, and Bulma's blue eyes widened in fear.

"Well, hello," he said in a raspy voice. "What have we here?"

He was scaly, with purple skin and things that reminded Bulma of craters on top of his head. His purple lips were thick, and there were two long whiskers on his face where a mustache would be. His eyes were colorless, beady, and he wore the normal soldier wear of Frieza's army, except for his lime green boots.

Lime green.

Oh, _no_.

Only elites were allowed to add their own touch of culture to their uniforms.

"You're a pretty thing," the man said. "I'm Cui. You and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

Bulma only stared at him, trembling.

"You're that new scientist, aren't you?" Cui asked, taking her chin. Cui wasn't a particularly large man; he was taller than her, though not as tall as Citadel or Ingo, but that mattered little. He was an elite, an _elite_, and oh Kami, what was she supposed to do about an _elite? _Her gun would do nothing, absolutely nothing, and God, she was going to _die_ -

"AH! There you are!"

They both whirled, and Bulma heaved a sigh of relief to see who it was. "Ingo," she breathed.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Ingo said, waving his hands dramatically. "Thanks for finding her, Cui."

Cui scowled. "Ingo. What are you doing here?"

Ingo snorted and spread his arms. "I do believe that my room is in this direction. What are you doing here?"

"Making my rounds," Cui said, and his grip on Bulima's wrist tightened.

"Well," Ingo said, his voice sounding phonily cheerful, "good thing you found my female then! Come on, Little Woman, let's go!" He sauntered past Bulma and Cui, grabbing her as he went. He shoved her in front of him, both hands on her shoulders. His grip was firm, so much so that Bulma's knees nearly buckled (though that could have because she was still shaking), and once they were away from Cui, he belt down slightly, as if he were nibbling her ear. "Where's your room?" he whispered.

"834C6," she whispered back, shakily.

He hung a swift right, glancing behind him to make sure Cui wasn't watching or following.

He was.

He was following, oh God the elite was following and they were both going to die -

Ingo's eyes glowed suddenly, and after pulling her to a stop, he whirled and held out one hand. His pupils had completely disappeared, and the light was so bright that the energy seemed to leak out of his eye-sockets in tiny rays that resembled lightning bolts. His jaw was set, and his silver brows furrowed. Cui's mouth fell open, and his eyes looked blank for a moment. Finally, he blinked and turned around, grumbling to himself and scratching his forehead.

"What did you do?" Bulma asked, staring up at her savior.

Ingo lowered his arm, his eyes fading back to their normal, vibrant green. "I made him forget."

"…Forget…wha -"

"I'm telekinetic," he said, as if that explained everything. A smirk played at his lips; he was proud of himself.

Bulma's scientific mind spoke through her shock. "That's when you move objects, not effect minds."

He blinked and looked at her. "Hmm? Oh yeah, I do that too." With that, he began steering her down the hall again.

Bulma's room wasn't far - so close, she'd been _so close - _and they got there quickly. Bulma's hand fumbled with her pocket, and she finally got her room key out, unlocking her door with trembling hands. Finally, the door opened, and Ingo glanced around behind them before they slipped inside. Bulma collapsed on her bed, not changing her clothes or even asking him to get out. She did not cry, she did not speak. She ignored Ingo when he asked her any questions, didn't flinch when he touched her shoulder. She fell asleep with her face in her pillow, her work clothes still on and smelling slightly of fear induced sweat.

* * *

When Bulma woke up, Ingo was gone. However, since she woke up to a knock at the door, she suspected he was back. Rising from her bed, she smoothed her hair down and wiped the sleep out of her eyes, sprucing herself a bit (what? He was cute), and opened the door. What she saw made her gasp.

"_Ingo_? What did you do to your _hair_?" she gaped. His hair, eyebrows, and fuzzy ears were now the darkest black, all traces of silver gone.

He blinked, and she suddenly realized that his figure was different; he seemed noticeably leaner, with a slightly longer torso. His lips were fuller, his face thinner, his eyes softer, not bearing that cocky expression that Ingo always wore.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was a smidgen lighter; anyone less observant than Bulma wouldn't have even noticed any of this."I'm not Ingo. My name is Raint."

* * *

***drools and walks like zombie* MUST…HAVE…VEGETA…**

**I'm going to die, I swear. At least I get to introduce him next chapter...I think. You guys know I can't predict myself worth crap. Grr. This is so utterly difficult. I'm crying on the inside. Tell me the truth (gently), was this chapter rushed? I actually wanted to cover a lot more but it's getting long. I also want to know what you guys think of Ingo. We didn't get to go over a lot of his character but he does have an important role in this story.**

**I forgot to mention this; name puns.**

**Zasshuken, the place Ingo, Raint, and Citadel are from, is the Japanese word for mutt. Their race is very mixed, as you can imagine. Ingo and Raint are based off Inuyasha, though that's just looks. They don't have the same powers he does. Aeshu-jin is just a made up name. Hasukī means Husky in Japanese, which explains Ingo and Raint's ears.**

**Also, Satoru's name means Seer.**

**By the way, while Satoru might seem like my character, he might not be. *Devilish grin*. Maybe Satoru is a bit more familiar than you guys think. Or maybe some of you caught it. Have fun with that.**

**I hope you guys know that I do read every single one of your reviews (I seriously check every 2-3 hours) and I do appreciate every single one of them. So please, make me happy.**

**Review!**

**~KimiruMai**


	3. Core Source

**You guys don't mind if I start going all Japanese on you again, do you? ^^', I was watching an anime in Japanese (ANGEL BEATS FTW) and I've gotten the feel for it again. It'll just be small phrases, as usual. If it becomes a huge problem I can go back and add some into the previous chapters. **

**This has been sitting on my computer half finished for a long time. I just got this horrible case of writers block…I've also made significant progress on ASTAC, but somehow that inspiriation got filtered to this story. Anywho, thanks for waiting patiently, and here's the next installation! **

**Disclaimer: I **_**disclaim**_** all Dragon Ball Z based characters here. Ha, see what I did there? **

**Song Prompt: My Song ~ Angel Beats!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Core Source. **

Bulma blinked.

Raint.

He was handsome, like his brother, though Bulma was debating which hair color was better-looking. The matching features quickly led her to the conclusion that they were identical twins, though she wondered how one twin could have white hair and the other could have black. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a small, surprised sound that could barely pass as a puff of air.

The tall man's furry right ear turned swiftly to the side, just a little bit, catching the tiny sound as he studied her. His green eyes were just as vibrant as Ingo's, though not sparkled with mischief or amusement. He stared at her for what seemed like a long time before he blinked and looked away, a blush darting across his cheeks. "Sorry," he said again. "Ingo told me to check up on you. He's had to leave early today." Raint paused, then added, "I'm his twin."

"I figured," Bulma muttered. "I'm Bulma Briefs. Nice to meet you."

"Bulma Briefs," he repeated in his thick accent, a slightly surprised look on his face. "That is a long name."

She chuckled. "Briefs is my last name."

"What's a last name?"

She blinked, then said, "It's a name used to separate me from all the other Bulma's in the universe."

"Oh." He cocked his head and furrowed his brows.

"Ingo never said anything was strange about it," Bulma shrugged.

Raint wrinkled his nose. "Ingo finds little to be strange."

Bulma chuckled a little. "Yeah, well."

The tall man looked at her for a moment, then muttered, "He never tells me anything."

"What was that?"

He blushed and ducked his head to hide his face behind stick straight bangs. "He didn't tell me you were this pretty."

Suddenly, it was her turn to blush, but she felt a soft pang in her stomach. She had not flirted since Yamcha's death. "Thank you."

Raint cleared his throat. "Well, uh, breakfast hour is starting."

Bulma sighed and nodded. "I'll be out in a minute," she said, giving him a shooing motion. He nodded once, very quickly, and left, closing the door behind him. Bulma gave another sigh after he'd gone. She did not need this right now. She had enough things to worry about without having a 'man friend' on her mind. It didn't matter how muscular he was or how awesome his hair was…

Shaking her head of the pointless thoughts that would only serve to hinder her plans of overthrowing the galactic empire known as Kold, Bulma went to the bathroom and took a 5 minute shower, put on clean clothes, and tied her hair up. She put on her big white high-tops and her white lab coat, stuck her hands in her pockets and left the room. Raint was still outside waiting, much to her surprise.

"You didn't have to wait," she said.

He shrugged. "I don't mind."

"Well…alright then. Let's go to breakfast."

The started walking, and Bulma wondered if he could read her mind. After finding out about Ingo's abilities, she had decided to be extra careful with what she thought around him. It was becoming increasingly difficult; she found herself thinking about how soft his hair must be, and how much she wanted to pet his ears, how lovely his eyes were. How lovely both brothers were.

"Can you read minds?" she blurted, embarrassed.

Raint blinked. "Hm? Well, sure, but only when I try to." He paused, then asked, "Why?"

"Just…worried about blackmail, is all," she mumbled.

His eyes darkened. "Has my brother been irritating you at all?"

"What?" she gaped. "No, of course not. Ingo saved my life. I'm just…suspicious, that's all."

He relaxed. "Do you not want people in your thoughts?"

"No; not really. I've become a private person. That's why I was curious."

He was quiet for a moment. "Well…if I were to read your mind, you would feel that something was amiss."

She nodded her gratitude, and the pair fell silent.

As the entered the cafeteria and got their food, Bulma heard Ingo yell, "Hey, guys, over here!" He was up waving at them, telling them to come over to his table, where he sat with Citadel and a young woman with pink hair.

The woman, who was probably up to Ingo's shoulder (which made Bulma feel a bit short, as it meant that she had a good inch and a half on her) , had a slim, hourglass build and medium toned skin as though she'd been living on the beach for years. Her nose and ears were small and petite, her eyes slightly slanted, colored hot pink, and shaded by thick lashes. Her carnation-pink hair was down to her back, light and wispy, and gathered into pigtails at the ends. She glanced up at Bulma as she and Raint approached, and Bulma was suddenly reminded of a butterfly.

She felt overshadowed.

The woman blinked her pink eyes, her chin resting casually on her hand, and in a smooth, fluid voice, she asked Ingo, "Who is she?"

"That's Bulma," he replied. "I told you about her, remember?"

The woman shrugged.

"Hello, Bulma," Citadel said.

"Konnichiwa," Bulma murmured, her tongue slipping from English. It didn't matter, because they would hear their own language anyway…but sometimes she missed the Japanese words from her homeland.

Bulma and Raint sat, and the woman stared at her. "Vani," she said after a while.

Bulma blinks when no one responds to the word. "Excuse me?"

"That's my name. Vani."

"Oh," said the blue-haired Chikyuujin. "I'm Bul-"

"Bulma, yes. I heard. Pleasure."

Bulma nodded, and began to eat. The food wasn't particularly amazing, not compared to what she would normally eat on Chikyuu, but it was decent.

Vani was even prettier up close. Now that Bulma could study her properly, she noted that the alien woman's skin looked to be made of soft, tiny, thin scales that appeared to be a tanned human's skin color. On her left cheek, there was an intricate tattoo of wispy swirls, in a pink that matched her eyes, and in her mouth there were tiny fangs. On her right hand, there was a silver ring with an undecipherable indent. Her uniform gave a hint that she was an Elite, as she had a white band tied around her arm. Having thought this, Bulma looked to the twins, and noted that there was a very small hoop earring in one of their ears; Raint's on the left, and Ingo's on the right.

Suddenly, Vani said, "Stop that."

Bulma looked up sharply, ready to give her a piece of her mind, when she noticed that Vani wasn't looking at her at all. She was glaring instead at the twins, who sat across from each other in what looked like an intense staring match.

"Ingo, Raint!" Vani said, louder.

They both blinked, and two pairs of green eyes slid to her.

"Stop having conversations without the rest of us," Vani scolded, even though there was close to zero malice in her voice. "We have a guest here."

Ingo blinked, and the icy glare slipped from his eyes. "What are you talking about? She's not a guest, she's Bulma."

Vani rolled her eyes at his obliviousness. Raint snapped, "Don't be rude. Vani's right; she's a guest today."

Ingo glared at him again. "Forgive me, O holy one. I wasn't aware that you were so wise. Bulma and I are friends; as far as I'm concerned, she's part of the group already. No 'guest' necessary."

Raint scowled.

Bulma felt herself blushing from all the attention. She had become unused to being wanted amongst a group of people; it was almost like being back with the Z Gang.

No…no it wasn't.

She was broken out of her thoughts by a loud cry. "Nii-saaaan!" Raint whined.

"Eh?" Ingo asked, his mouth full.

"That was mine!"

"Heh…sorry," the silver haired twin said. "I'll give you some tofu in exchange. That alright?"

Raint frowned, but muttered, "Give it."

They swapped food, and Ingo rubbed his brother on the head. Raint's ears flattened with the motion, one eye shut as his raven hair fell into it, and he gave Ingo a halfhearted, embarrassed frown.

Bulma blinked at the exchange. "Do they always do that?" she whispered to Vani and Citadel.

Citadel smiled, though sadness was still present in his eyes, and dismissively shook his head at the two's antics. Vani snorted and said, "Always. They've got this alpha wolf thing going. Ingo is technically alpha, since he's the older twin, but since they haven't chosen mates yet, it's a constant battle. At the same time, they just freaking adore each other."

Bulma nodded, thinking it over. "What a complicated relationship," she said out loud.

Vani and Citadel laughed. "You know something?" Vani asked cheerfully. "I think I like you, Blue."

It was Bulma first nickname other than B-chan.

* * *

She carefully screwed in the muzzle of the laser, being sure to keep it straight and level. Citadel worked two desks over from her, fiddling with the end of his ponytail as he muttered curses under his breath.

It was rather quiet in the lab, aside from the soft clanks and taps of tools, and occasionally the hatefully murmured curse of someone who'd just hurt themselves or had come to a standstill with their project. Blueprints were scattered all over the notoriously white room, covered in drawings that ranged from rough sketches to fully completed prints. Calculators and computers clicked and beeped, sometimes followed by muttered noises of satisfaction or grunts of displeasure.

When the door opened, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up. A guard was there (thankfully, not an Elite), and his four eyes roamed over the room before they landed on Citadel. "Doctor, I've been sent to deliver a message from Lord Frieza."

Bulma could swear that the temperature in the room dropped at the name, and the tension in the air was thick enough to slice with a blade.

Citadel wiped his greasy hands on a nearby hand towel, and motioned for the guard to enter. He handed the scientist a small disk that reminded Bulma of a CD, and a hologram appeared out of it once it touched Citadel's palm. Letters rolled up as he read, his brows knitting, and after a moment, he handed it back to the guard. The image disappeared the second it left his fingers.

"Thank you for bring it to me," the scientist said curtly. The guard nodded briskly and left, and the scientists were left to their deathly silent atmosphere. Citadel looked around for Bulma, and when he found her, he walked over and spoke to her quietly.

"Frieza wishes for you to make an update."

Her blood chilled, but she asked, "On what?"

"The core of the ship."

A gasp slipped from her throat. "What?!" she nearly shrieked. The others in the room looked at her strangely.

"Hush now," Citadel scolded. "He has heard of your intelligence. He wants you to make sure the system is functioning properly, and make it better, if at all possible."

"Why not you?" she hissed. "You're better than I am!"

He gave a small smile. "'Fraid not, love. I'm older, and yet you're nearly on par with me. Pound for pound…"

"I've never even seen the core of the ship," she objected. "You have. What could I possibly do to it?"

"Young minds are more open to suggestions, he thinks," The Aeshu-jin shrugged. "He most likely just wants to test you, see what you're good for."

Bulma looked like she wanted to cry.

* * *

Ingo did not escort her this time, nor did Raint. Citadel agreed to accompany her, but he, unfortunately, was not technically her escort either. The man who came to get her was taller than both of them, though by less than an inch, blue skinned, and green haired. Bulma wondered briefly what was up with aliens and long hair as she watched his braid swing back and forth as he walked.

This man was just as gorgeous, if not more than, the twins; he looked as though he belonged in a Shojo manga, with golden eyes and shapely lips. He was also an Elite, and a high ranked one; the legs of his uniform were hardly legs at all; instead, they were leggings that started at his thighs. He wore long purple sleeves unattached to his standard blue shirt, and a blue cape. He also wore a pair of orb earrings that matched a thin, crown-like accessory that he wore around his forehead.

"You're not here to play around, woman," he said, in a nearly Australian accent. "I will show you the basics of the machine, you will inspect it, and get out. If you make an attempt to destroy it, I'll have to do away with you. Understand?"

"Yes," she squeaked. She glanced over at Citadel, who purposely didn't meet her gaze.

According to Raint, the man's name was Zarbon. He was the Prince of a race called Tokage, and he had been captured and kept here as a very young child. It was rumored that he'd been brainwashed by the tyrant Frieza, and was completely loyal to the Kold Empire.

After looking into his fiery golden eyes, Bulma decided that such a thing was impossible.

"Good."

The corridor was long and winding, full of turns and doors that Bulma could swear were all the same. She felt herself being impressed that this guy even knew where he was going, until she heard the soft beeps of his green scouter telling him which way.

The core of the ship was more than just a battery. According to rumors spread about the lab (which nearly _always_ turned out to be true), the core was used to fuel hundreds of smaller ships, as well as weapons designed for the lower class soldiers. Even more astonishing was the fact that the energy frequency of the scouters was directly routed to it; even the electricity in the lab was. That, actually, was the reason why it had taken Bulma a while to get used to the technology; the energy was similar, though at the same time, drastically different than real electricity. Many of their properties were the same, but there were also many features that made it clear to be different. She didn't know what to make of it, and now, she was going to find out exactly what it was.

Part of her was excited.

When they finally reached their destination, Zarbon placed his hand (gloveless; another feature of Elite status) on the fingerprint scanner. With a beep and a hiss, the door slid open.

The room was darkened, lit only by computer screens and a large, bright light. Citadel seemed unfazed, but Bulma blinked and turned away from it. When her eyes adjusted, she noticed a few people, perhaps four, sitting at computers and typing away. The most noticeable was a cinnamon colored, furry man in a lab coat sitting at one of the desktops. He glanced back with purple eyes, and scratched at his short, wild Mohawk, and then his thick but scruffy grey beard. "Ah, the Chikyuujin," he said, his voice high and slurping, almost like a cat's purr crossed with that of a lizard. "I am Turin. I am in charge of monitoring the Core Source."

"I'm Bulma Briefs," she replied, giving a short bow of respect. "Pleasure to meet you."

Turin nodded at her, then muttered a hello to Citadel. "I trust you've been well."

Citadel cleared his throat. "As well as I could be, given the circumstances."

Turin nodded again, this time in understanding. He murmured something to himself quickly, then turned to the darker corner of the room, where a single computer was on. "Muura," he called.

A young, skinny girl looked up sharply, having been concentrating very hard. She jumped up and went to Turin, bowing quickly, though twice as low as Bulma had. "Sir," she said quietly, and her voice nearly sounded like she was singing.

She was perhaps around Bulma's height, or a bit shorter, with a tiny frame that made it look as though she hadn't lifted a finger her entire life. Everything about her was small; her lips were thin, her face small but shaped roundly, her hands, and even her feet. She was small breasted and clearly underweight, as though she didn't eat as often as she should, and her teeth looked like they'd break if she bit down too hard. The only thing about her that was big were her grey eyes, with cat-like pupils, which seemed wide with an eager to please look. Her hair was burgundy colored and short, save for a long, thin braid at the base of her neck, and she had things that looked like feathers behind her ears and along the outmost side of her forearms, a shade lighter than her hair. Her skin was dark in a way that reminded Bulma of one of her Brazilian friends, and the though made her heart wrench a bit.

"Do show Miss Briefs the way around the site," Turin chittered. "And don't dawdle. We can't have dawdlers."

Her grey eyes grew big. "Me?"

"Yes. Don't break anything."

Not wanting to cause Turin to change his mind, Muura turned and quickly bowed low to Bulma, Citadel, and Zarbon, and spun on her heel towards the lighter end of the room.

"What's wrong?" Bulma asked her. "You seem nervous."

Muura swallowed quietly and murmured, "I'm of very low rank…the lowest, actually. I'm normally given insignificant jobs."

"Like fetching coffee?"

"What's coffee?"

"Never mind."

"Oh." Muura pressed her lips together and glanced behind them, where Zarbon was following closely with his arms folded. A dark blush tinted her cheeks, and she turned away sharply, her shoulders hunched.

Bulma noticed, and bit her lip curiously.

"As you can see," Muura began in her small, quiet voice, "We use these computers to monitor anything and everything that occurs within the Core Source. The more important a computer is in the system, the closer it will be to it. To your left, there will be a small room for emergency supplies, and another for the bathroom. On the right will be a sort of tool closet for spare parts or protective gear and the like."

Bulma drowned her out, her blue eyes flitting over the dark room carefully. The bright light in the center of the room was muffled by something; she couldn't even see a light bulb, or whatever the light was coming from. It was pale and ghostly blue, and the only indication that it came from anything at all was the soft, fuzzy outline of a long shape.

"-sure that's about all…Turin, sir? I believe Miss Briefs would like to see the Core Source now," Muura finished.

"Eh?" the man in question muttered, and he rose from his chair and shuffled over to them. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his mustache, then reached over and pushed a button on the computer closest to the core unit. There was a hissing, crackling sound, and Bulma realized that the reason she couldn't see into the unit was because the glass had been mechanically fogged. The layers peeled and shifted away, almost like dramatically melting ice, and the shape in the middle started to become clearer. Bulma found herself holding her breath, her fists clenched, and Citadel patted her shoulder once without looking away.

When the fog was mostly cleared, Bulma gasped.

The unit, which was cylinder shaped and pedestaled on a large platform glittering with small screens and controls, was lined with bright lights, and filled with a thin liquid that was far too blue to be water. The glass was thick and sturdy, capped by a large metal top that reached the ceilings, and four thick tubes that seemed to be filtering the liquid attached to the side, causing air bubbles to float about in the container. The entire thing seemed dark and sinister, no matter it's glowing brightness, and Bulma suddenly felt as though she was in the pits of a mad scientist lab.

In the container, there was a man.

He was young, probably in his early twenties, judging by his smooth appearance. He was shorter than Citadel and Zarbon, perhaps an inch or so past Bulma's head, though his height was exaggerated by the coal black hair that floated above his face like a burning flame. His skin was darkened with a natural tan, his body muscled but lithe. His features were sharply defined and regally dominant, a perfect opposite of Zarbon's more delicate ones, his eyelashes thick and resting against his cheeks. His nose was straight, and his lips masculinely full, and his face bore a serene look of someone in deep slumber. He was floating in the chamber with a clear oxygen mask over his face, his feet a few inches above the bottom, his limbs loosely swaying in small, subtle motions, and thin wires were stuck to his skin. Near his waist floated a furry brown tail, and the first thing that struck Bulma's mind was the fact that he was exactly like Goku.

The second thing that struck her was his handsomeness.

"What is this?" she breathed.

"This is the Core Source, silly girl," Turin said. "This liquid here keeps his body constantly healing, and feeds him the necessary nutrients he needs to be healthy through his pores. It also acts as a sedative. Seventeen units a day, I believe."

"You'll kill him!" Bulma cried, and blushed when everyone turned to stare at her.

"Of course not," Turin hmphed. "He's been in there for so many years that he's become immune…any less, and he'd surely awaken."

It hit her then that this man was really, truly alive, and they kept him prisoner by way of a coma.

"With the nutrients we give him, he'll last another good 70 years," Turin continued.

"Last?" Bulma asked.

"Yes, you know, as the Core Source. This young man here is where we get all our power from. Everything on this ship is powered by his Ki."

Her mouth fell open a bit.

"Of course, we have backup generators, just in case, but they don't do nearly as well as he does. Now, see here, these wires filter the Ki from his body and into those electric units over there –" he pointed to giant generators in the back of the room, " – which in turn filter the power to the rest of the ship and army."

"How is that possible?" Bulma asked, awed and horrified at the same time. "A single man? Aren't there others?"

"Hm? No, no, just him."

"How?"

"Well, when he was placed here as a child, we…eh, for lack of a better word, _weaned_ the Ki out of him. His Ki was only used for trivial matters, or emergency ones. As years progress, we use less artificial battery power, and rely more on him. I've thoroughly studied this; you know, the more Ki we draw, the faster his body makes it? Truly incredible, isn't it?"

"What's his name?"

She had asked the question without thinking; it had been a simple curious thought, not one meant to say out loud. She felt everyone's eyes on her again, but she refused to flinch.

Turin chuckled a strange laugh. "He has no name, silly. Or if he does, we've long forgotten it. It's insignificant."

Bulma pressed her lips together and exhaled slowly. She found her jaw tightening, and she held back her offensive tongue, knowing that Zarbon's golden eyes were watching her every move.

Citadel stood close, and his shoulder brushed hers as he stuck his hands in his pants pockets. "It's a beautiful piece of machinery, isn't it?" he said softly to her.

_Isn't it monstrous?_

Bulma closed her eyes for a moment, forcing a lump back down her throat. Her blue eyes lingered on the man with no name (a lie, she believed), and eventually, her eyes lowered to the controls on the panel of the unit.

"Yes," she said in a soft monotone. "Beautiful."

* * *

***Fans self* Is there enough hot guys here for everybody? That was totally unintentional by the way, and I mean it. I honestly didn't notice until I got to the end XD Anime logic :3 I should build more ugly characters…or at least, average ones XDD**

**YAY! VEGGIE-KUN'S FINALLY HERE! *Sighs happily* it's like a drunk man getting his liquor back after rehab XDDDDD Not that I drink, but uh...heh. ^^**

**Name puns: **

**Raint – An anagram of "tarin", which means "tar" in Azerbajani. I actually made up this name first, then looked for an anagram of it, and turns out it's a shade of black, like his hair CX**

**Ingo – A purposeful misspelling of the word "Indigo", which was the original color of his eyes. **

**Vani – the word "vain" mixed up. Isn't she so pink? By the way, picture her hair like Videl's was originally, except longer and the pigtails are looser. **

**Citadel – A word meaning "strong, fortified place". The meaning will (hopefully) become clearer as the story progresses. **

**Muura – a purposeful misspelling of the name "Myra", which is French for "quiet song". This will also become clearer later on in the story. Picture her hairstyle like Toramaru Shou, and her looks kinda similar to Yoruichi, but not nearly as badass. **

**Turin – randomness. Just randomness. Because I can. **

**Tokage – The Japanese word for "lizard". This is my official name for Zarbon's people. Pronounced "Toe - ka - gay".**

**Yes, Zarbon-kun will be important to the story. Drastically so…I think. In fact, everyone on that list is drastically important, except for Turin. He's virtually useless. More original characters will sprout soon, I'm sure, even though I haven't planned any. We will have a super special appearance by an awesome character belonging to a fellow fanfictioner, but I won't say who because I'm sure that'll give it away. More Toriyama characters will also be present. **

**Anyhow, should really be doing my homework now. Le sigh. Well, when you gotta write, you gotta write. **

**Imma be up till 1 in the morning again T.T **

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


	4. Person of Interest

**First of all, go to my profile and vote. Tis ****_important_****. Thousand Foot Krutch fans, I'm desperately counting on you.**

**Secondly, go listen to Ed Sheeran. Tis beautiful.**

**Thirdly, enjoy the chapter :D As per usual, this is probably full of errors.**

**Thank you all so much for the reviews. Seriously, 57 reviews and only three chapters? That's pretty impressive. What say we crank it up a notch, eh? The bigger my ego, the better chances for inspiration, yeah?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot and my amazing characters.**

**Song Prompt: Way Home ~ Ed Sheeran**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Person of Interest**

Why would they do something like this?

It wasn't that Bulma was unused to the cruelty that plagued Frieza's ship like an unstoppable virus; no, she had been here far too long, interacted with too many guards, soldiers, and even fellow scientists who were crude and violent. She was perfectly used to it, accustomed, even. But this…this seemed over the top, even for Frieza.

What was the point? Why just this man? If the Ki was so more energy potent, shouldn't they use the Ki of many? Five men, ten, twenty even, but only one? And why this particular man? Why this tailed creature, who reminded her so much of Goku that it hurt, instead of anyone else?

What did Frieza have against him?

This was Bulma's 4th day working on the Core Source, and in all honesty, she hadn't gotten much done. The machinery was very high tech, above what she was used to, and it would take her a while to get the hang of it. The others had gone to lunch, but Bulma had stayed behind, deciding that it was high time she learned something about this thing. Before leaving, she had been given a metal bracelet by Zarbon, who coldly told her that if the monitors received any data saying that the machine was offline, this bracelet would explode and take her with it. There was nothing she could do the machine, even if she was crazy enough to.

She stood in the middle of the place, her fingers aching from hours of typing and resetting programs. She stared at the sleeping man with soft eyes flitting over his figure. The urge to give him a name was nearly overwhelming, but she didn't have any clue as to what she could call him. No Japanese name she tried out seemed to fit him, nor did any English names. She wished she knew what race he was…at least then, she could find a name off of the internet (she nearly snorted; who would think that aliens would have things like the internet?) and find something to call him.

It struck her then; Goku was an alien. That was the only explanation. This man certainly wasn't human; if he'd been here for as long as Turin said, then they couldn't have possibly gotten him from Chikyuu. And besides that, no human had as much Ki as this guy did. And because he had a tail like Goku's, it was only natural that she assume they were of the same race.

It didn't make sense. How would Goku have gotten on Chikyuu anyway? As far as she knew, Goku had always considered himself human. Curious, she began to look for other similar traits. It mattered not that she hadn't seen Goku in years; a man like him did not have a forgettable face. She could recall it as well as her own father's.

Sure enough, there were features similar to those of Goku present in this man's face. The high cheekbones, the broad forehead, the shape of his eyes that seemed just slightly different from any other human she'd ever seen, the crazy hair that didn't seem to change much despite being completely drenched in the blue healing liquid…it was unmistakable. They were of the same race.

So…what could she do with that information?

Jack shit, that's what. Who cared, if they were the same race? This man was nothing but a battery to the empire, and Goku was dead. This discovery, although beautifully interesting to her, was not a factor in her goal to destroy the Kold Empire.

Oh, sure, it be a cinch to just get rid of the battery source, and in turn leave most of the army helpless, but where would that leave her? Dead and in pieces, with Frieza still sitting on his Elite-surrounded throne. There was no way to destroy this thing. And even if there was, she couldn't kill the man that was inside. He was innocent of this, and she would not allow his blood to be on her hands.

If anything, she wanted to set him free.

Sighing, she let her fingers flutter over the glass, feeling some sort of connection with him. Here they were, both trapped and physically able to help the other accomplish what they both longed for - freedom - and yet the unwritten laws of the hell that contained them said otherwise. It wasn't fair, dammit! He was so young..._she_ was so young. Looking at his face, she decided that they must be about the same age, but how damned unfair for him to be trapped here since childhood. For a moment, she imagined what it would be like if he were to awaken; what color were his eyes? What did his voice sound like? Would he befriend her? Would he smile?

"Miss Briefs?"

Surprised, Bulma whirled, ripping her fingers away from the glass. "Muura," she breathed. "You startled me."

The tiny woman bowed in respect. "I apologize," she said in her soft, dreamlike voice. "I finished lunch a bit early, so Dr. Turin insisted that I see if I could assist you at all." Her grey eyes flitted to the Core Source and narrowed slightly, and Bulma swore that they flashed a deep purple for a moment. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course," the human replied calmly.

"Is there no further information you need to complete your work?"

Gears clicked and whirred in Bulma's mind, and without thinking about it, she said, "Actually, I would like to know about the man inside."

"Whatever for?"

"The more I know about his species," the lie rolled fluidly off Bulma's tongue, "the better I can work with his Ki. It is my belief that the Ki of every race is somewhat different."

"I see." There was no sarcasm or malice in her voice; she still used that same quiet monotone that made Bulma wonder if the girl wasn't dead, but even so, it was clear that she doubted her.

"Muura," Bulma said, "It's in my best interest to know everything about whatever it is I'm working with. "The more I know about it, the better I can upgrade it. Any cultural or racial history I can get could tell me if there's some legendary secret to unlocking more power."

Muura seemed to think about it for a moment. "Well, alright. I suppose most would want to know as much as possible…I can get you some of the minor things, but I don't know much myself."

"Where do you suppose we begin?"

"I suppose we should find out what race he is."

"There should be files on that…" Bulma murmured, biting her lip as she moved to hover over a computer.

"Oh, all files on him through the Core are locked," Muura said in her near whispered chime. "You'd have to begin from scratch."

Bulma groaned. "How high of a position do you need to access them?"

"You'd have to be as high up as Turin," the feathered woman said.

"Maybe Citadel can…?"

"Turin is higher than Citadel."

"Damn!" Bulma cursed, muttering under her breath.

Muura was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "You could ask some of the prisoners."

Bulma whirled. "What?"

"The scientists are not allowed to speak of the race of the man, so the younger people can't discuss it," she said quietly. "But the prisoners are…sometimes not as obedient as we'd like."

"That's a good idea…thank you." Bulma paused, then asked, "Why are you helping me, exactly? If this is so top secret...?"

Muura looked away for a moment. "There aren't many females down here…I was hoping that maybe we could be…acquaintances."

Bulma blinked. "Well…well, sure. You can come meet some of my other acquaintances too, if you'd like."

Muura smiled and sat at a computer beside the blue-haired human, and started to type.

"So…" Bulma said casually. "Zarbon, eh?"

Muura jumped at the name and blushed. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, I don't know the guy all too well…just met him today, but he's a looker."

"Oh."

"He's pretty gorgeous, although I think blue skin's a little hard for me to deal with. The twins are more my taste, I guess I'll say."

Muura was silent.

Bulma glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, surprised that the young woman hadn't taken the bait. She added, "I saw you look at him."

"He didn't see _me_," Muura murmured, her chin dipping and her maroon locks hiding her grey eyes.

Bulma tucked a loose strange of hair behind her ear and frowned. "Is it because he's an Elite?"

"Yes. Someone of his status wouldn't take notice of someone like me."

"Oh, finally, girl talk," Bulma nearly squealed. "It's been a long time since I've had that. Honey, you've got to stand out a little more, is all. You don't talk very loudly, or very much, and you were so hunched down over those computers earlier, I didn't even see you when we came in. Be more confident!"

"I've never been very confident," Muura admitted. "I'm shy."

"Alright then, use that to your advantage! Some guys _love_ the shy girl thing…makes them feel like a bad boy. Bump into him or something, then just act all cute and quiet, say sorry and flip your hair like so –" she demonstrated, "and volia! He's yours."

"I couldn't," Muura blushed. "I couldn't."

"Aw, come on, I doubt he'd be that mad."

"I just couldn't…I'm not that brave."

"Alright…I could push you into him, how's that? And you just let yourself fall into his arms and let him sweep you off your feet!"

"Miss Briefs," Muura sputtered.

"Bulma, call me Bulma. I can't wait to tell Vani! I've just met her last week too, she hangs out with Citadel and the twins, but she's so pink, I can just tell she's a perfect person to talk to about this. You should join us for lunch tomorrow! We could all have a nice chat…"

* * *

Bulma walked back to her room, thoroughly exhausted. She'd spent a lot of the day researching, and a lot of it examining the machine, and some of it staring at the man. There had to be _some _way to find out more about him, and her curiosity would not be quenched until she had done so. Her talk with Muura had lifted her spirits greatly; she now had two female acquaintances. It was a nice change from being surrounded by males all day, even though she would only see them for a few moments each day, Vani especially. She felt that, although it was silly, she wanted to help Muura overcome her shyness. It wasn't as though she was unallowed to have a social life…what, after all, could she do to stop Frieza on her lunch break? As much as she'd like to, she couldn't work forever…she would need to let loose eventually.

But still, even though she would _like_ to focus on being social, if only for a day, her mind kept wandering back to the Core Source. Why would Frieza let his entire army, his entire empire, be dependent on a single man's Ki? And why that particular man? And was there any connection to Goku at all? Would it explain his enormous power…or, what had been enormous until the Elites showed up? Obviously, there _was_ a connection. But pieces were still missing. She had no clue as to how important that was, or which puzzle pieces this information fit between.

She climbed into bed and let out a heavy sigh; she was asleep almost immediately after her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_It was very bright today, the Core Source. The blue lights from within the container seemed to intensify the longer she was in the room, coating the dark space with an eerie blue light. Bulma vaguely heard the shuffling and typing of the other scientists and monitors as she worked, but paid them no mind. Muura did not seem to be present, nor Turin, and it was the latter fact that made her wonder if perhaps she was in charge today. Even so, the shapes she knew to be people only seemed to be muffled blurs and shadows, and looked more useless than anything._

_With the light from the containment device growing brighter by the second, Bulma felt her patience wearing thin. She whirled on the machine, as if to yell at it, and was shocked to find that the light was only a tiny bit brighter than it usually was. Curious, and thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her, she moved closer and reached out to touch it._

_The man inside moved, bending his legs and floating towards her. His hand pressed against the glass, and his eyes (which she imagined were brown like Goku's, although she had no way of telling), looked right at her. Behind the clear oxygen mask, his lips moved…he was talking to her._

"_I don't understand," Bulma said, and her voice sounded as though she were the one underwater._

_His mouth moved again, his flame hair shifting in the healing fluid. She still didn't catch what he said, but she felt herself press her hand against the glass, mirroring his. "Soon," she heard herself say, "soon, I'll free you. I swear it."_

_He pressed his entire body against the glass, and it burst. Blue liquid rushed at her face, and Bulma screamed._

* * *

Bulma bolted upright in bed, gasping. She lifted her hand to her forehead; she was warm, and sweating. "What kind of dream was that?" she murmured to herself.

A knock came from the door. "Yo, Blue! You getting up, or what?"

Bulma blinked and looked at the time. She'd overslept! Jumping out of bed, she quickly dressed and ran a comb through her hair, then ran out to catch up with the pink haired alien.

"I can't believe I slept so late," Bulma muttered.

"Eh, don't worry about it."

"At least I took a shower last night," the scientist sighed. "I had a weird dream –"

"A wet dream?" Vani teased.

Bulma blushed. "No! I dreamt I was working on the Core Source, and the man woke up."

Vani blinked. "Well, then."

"And it didn't even seem weird to me. It was like it was a regular thing."

"Do you think it means anything?" Vani asked.

Bulma bit her lip for a moment before lying smoothly, "No, I guess I was just thinking about it too much. Are the guys waiting for us already?"

"Should be," Vani ignored the sudden change of subject.

As she approached the table, Raint looked up and met her eyes for a minute before he blushed and looked away. Bulma felt herself smile, feeling pretty even though she knew she probably looked terrible. Raint moved over and motioned for her to sit by him, which she did, and Vani shoved Ingo to make room for herself on the opposite side of the table. Ingo glared at her and growled, to which she grinned and stuck her tongue out at him.

"We have a day off tomorrow," Raint said to no one in particular. "I looked at my schedule post this morning."

"Sweet," Ingo said, pleased. "Bulma, Citadel, you should take a day off too, before you keel over."

Bulma shook her head. "I can't. I have to work on the Core Source –"

"One day off won't matter, Bulma," Citadel interrupted. "You haven't had one in ages…and we do get employee privileges every once in a while, you know. You're supposed to take of four days a month, and you haven't taken any the last few weeks."

"I know…I've been researching things."

"The Source is interesting, I know," he agreed.

Bulma bit her lip, then said, "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to test anything on the prisoners again."

He raised a dark brown eyebrow. "Well, yes, I have some more things, but why?"

"The one I tested before said something interesting, and I want to know what he meant."

"Ah, I see. I should warn you, Bulma-chan, not to get too involved with anything that is said around the Cellar. It's almost always a lie, and prisoners have gotten workers in trouble more than once. There's a reason we don't talk about past occurrences."

Bulma gave a small, knowing smile. "Not this time," she murmured, so quietly that only Raint heard her.

"Bulma, don't you want to spend some time with us outside the cafeteria?" he asked.

Bulma looked up and blushed at the hopeful glitter in his vibrant green eyes. "Of course, it's just that I feel very involved in this project."

Raint cocked his head and looked at her, and there was a gentle brush in her mind. "I know it's an important piece, but if you're too tired, then you can't work with it properly, can you?"

Bulma sighed. "I guess not."

"Good," he smiled. "I want to get to know you better…if that's alright." He glanced away as he said this, his face warm and his ears laid back against his hair.

Bulma smiled at his cute shyness. "It's fine."

He pretended to cough and ran his fingers through his bangs. "Good," he said again.

Ingo wrapped his arm around Vani's shoulder and made kissing noises. Raint's hackles rose, and he growled.

"Aw, calm down, little brother," Ingo teased. "I was only messing with you."

"Hmph," Raint said.

_Who would have thought someone as shy as Raint would have such a temper, _Bulma mused to herself.

"We can't go off planet," Citadel pointed out. "It's only a day."

"Well, we'll crash in my room then," Ingo said.

"And do what, exactly?"

"Tell life stories? Hell if I know, I just want to relax, for crying out loud."

"I think it'll be fun," Vani said. "It's not like we have anything better to do."

"Gee, thanks," Ingo said dryly. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he flicked her nose, at which she snapped her teeth at his fingers.

Bulma smiled and shook her head at their silliness, and her blue eyes began to roam around the cafeteria until she saw a tiny maroon-haired young woman take her tray from the lunch line.

"Muura!" Bulma called, waving.

The little technician looked up sharply, her grey eyes wide, then she ducked her head and swiftly made her way over to the table. "Hello," she murmured, sitting beside Bulma.

"Hello. Everybody, this is Muura. She tinkers with computers up in the Core Source room. Muura, the puppies over there are Ingo and Raint –" the twins glared at her " – You know Citadel already, and that's Vani."

"The pink one," Muura said, referring to their conversation the day before.

Bulma chuckled. "Yeah."

"Hey," Vani defended, "I take pride in my pinkness. Pink is awesome."

"It's a wonderful color," Muura said quickly. "I love pink."

Vani's frown turned into a large grin almost immediately. "I like you."

Muura looked surprised. "Oh…um, thank you."

"Muura," Bulma nudged her, "You really should talk to Vani about…you know, that _thing_ we were discussing."

Muura blushed deeply and hunched her shoulders. "I haven't a clue as to what you're referring to."

"Oh, sure you do…hey, what do you know? Speak of the devil…"

They all looked up and noticed that Zarbon was making their way to their table. Muura looked like she was going to faint, at which Vani immediately caught on and grinned.

Zarbon slammed his hands down on the table, right in front of poor Muura, who gave a small 'eep' and nearly buried herself in Bulma's side. "Female," he snapped, "I've been told you were spending time gathering information about the man in the Core Source instead of researching ways to improve it. I won't have any of this foolishness. Do your job or stay out."

Bulma's blue eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, good sir, but the more information I know about the entire structure, the man included, the better I can improve it. What would happen if his race has some sort of weakness I know nothing about? I could make a change that would prove fatal to him, and that would be nothing short of disastrous, now wouldn't it?"

The anger faded from his delicate features, and he looked speechless.

Bulma poked the young woman who had latched on to her (actually, Bulma was still debating whether she should refer to Muura as a woman or a girl) and said, "Tell him, Muura. You were helping me, and clearly you're the one who works there, so it's fine, isn't it?"

Muura stuttered and looked up at Zarbon's handsome face, her dark cheeks and pale feathers turning a hot shade of red. His golden eyes narrowed at her fearful look, and he scoffed. Turning back to Bulma, he said, "If that's the case, don't waste time trying to hack into files and just ask for the information, you stupid girl."

Bulma looked embarrassed, and she was about to jump up to defend herself when Raint's hand clamped around her arm and kept her seated. Narrowing his green eyes at Zarbon, he snarled, "I'll thank you kindly to not talk to her like that. If you have a problem, either talk it out like a civilized adult or go vent with a harlot."

Zarbon's eyes flashed. "Mutt, you're trying my patience. You're fortunate that I don't have time to play around with the likes of you." With that, he spun on his heel, his cape and braid flying out, and stormed away.

Raint looked satisfied. Ingo grinned and shook his head, saying, "Hmph. He just said that because he knows that as an Elite telepath, you'd kick his ass."

Bulma blinked at him. "Are you both that high up?"

The twins shrugged. Raint said, "He's stronger than we are, but with our powers, he doesn't stand a chance."

"Oh," she frowned. "I couldn't tell by your clothes…"

"Heh," Ingo snorted. "Zarbon only gets to wear his weird getup because he's Frieza's favorite. No other elites of his rank really get that big of a privilege."

Bulma turned and looked at the silver hoop in Raint's ear, and the matching one in Ingo's, before she turned to Muura, who still looked terrified. "You poor dear. He won't talk to you if you can't get a sentence out, you know."

"I wish you wouldn't," Muura whined quietly.

"Oh, nonsense. I played matchmaker all the time at home, and never failed once, don'tcha know."

Everyone gave a friendly laugh and smiled at the small woman, who sighed. Muura, it seemed, had been officially inducted into the little slowly forming gang.

Bulma almost felt like she was replacing her friends.

* * *

"So, that's why I'd like to have as much information about him as possible."

Turin raised a bushy eyebrow at her, then snickered. "Silly girl. You don't need any of that. I've thoroughly studied his race before; they have only one weakness, and it's highly unlikely that you'll do something to harm him by accident, unless you try to cut apart his body."

Bulma blanched. Her plan was going down the drain, and some part of her screamed that she _desperately_ needed this information. "Zarbon told me it'd be fine, as long as I don't waste much time."

"You'd be wasting time anyway," Turin said, turning his back to her as he began to fiddle with monitors again. "The information's of no use to you. I've already given you anything you may need."

"But -"

"Get to work, girl."

Bulma pressed her lips together and bit back a sharp insult. Her blue eyes darted to the glowing container as a familiar crackling sound came from the glass being fogged solidly, and she watched the nameless man's sleeping face until the glass became to opaque for her to see.

* * *

He knew she was coming long before he heard her footsteps, and he greeted her the second she came into view. "Hello, little girl."

"Hello, Satoru," Bulma replied, typing in the passcode to unlock his door.

"Here to test something again?"

"Well, yes, but not entirely." She opened the door and went to sit on her knees in the middle of the cell, where she sat out all the things she'd brought; this time, she was testing a new collar.

"Ah," Satoru said, "My prophesy has come true, then."

She looked up sharply, frowning, and beckoned him forward. When he didn't move, she glared at him and moved closer to take off his original collar, and snapped the newer one in place. He hissed as his Ki drained away, and under his cloak, she saw his muscles clenching with the itch to lash out. She backed away, and he looked up to frown at her, brown eyes narrowed.

"Calm yourself, brat," he snapped, gritting his teeth. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Perhaps not, but I've learned my lesson about being close to angry men 100 times my strength."

He scoffed.

"Now," Bulma continued. "About that prophecy…how did you do it?"

"How?"

"Who told you Sula was going to die?"

"Nobody told me. I saw it."

"People don't just _see_ things, Satoru."

"I do. I have a special ability that allows me to see glimpses of the future."

"Uh huh. And, where does this ability come from?"

"It was transferred to me."

"How?"

"A giant bug-being hit me in the head."

Bulma nearly growled. "That doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't have to," Satoru shrugged. "They're all dead."

_Damn. _"Who killed them?"

"I did. Me and my squad."

She visibly flinched, and started to stand up.

"What did you expect, girl?" he demanded. "I'm a soldier in the Kold army. It's what I do. It's what your precious twins do. Even the little pink girl. They purge for a living."

Bulma narrowed her eyes and sat back down; she had never told him anything about Vani, and he'd only seen Ingo in person once. "You've been spying on me."

"Not purposely," he grumbled. "This little gift I've got has a mind of its own."

"And why, pray tell, does it want you to see me?"

"Hell if I know. You're important, for reasons beyond me."

Hope sparked in her chest; maybe she would be able to overthrow Frieza. That had to be it! That had to be why she was important! "How far into my future have you seen?"

He frowned. "Probably not more than a few moments. The visions get progressively farther into the future as they go."

Good, good. She could work with that. "Would you tell me if something drastic happened?"

"If you came to visit me in time, sure."

She smiled. "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me. Now, I had another question."

His mouth turned up at the corners. "Looking to make some mischief, little girl?"

"I guess you could say that. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Core Source."

The smile snapped off his face.

"Even if it's just rumors," Bulma said quickly. "Anything I can learn about the man inside would be great."

"Why?"

Bulma started. His tone had suddenly become dark, almost like a growl, and if frightened her. Remembering the gun strapped to her belt, her fingers tightened around her pants leg.

"Because I knew someone like him once," she admitted. "He was abnormally strong, and he had a tail. The man in the Core Source has a tail. I need to know what they are…It's not entirely relevant to overthrowing Frieza, but…" she sighed. "It'd just give me some peace of mind, I suppose. I don't know why, but it feels like I _need_ to know about him."

"Like destiny," Satoru murmured, staring off into space.

"Well yes, I suppose so," Bulma blinked. He didn't respond. "Satoru?...Satoru? Satoru, snap out of it!"

He blinked, then shook his head as if to clear it. "The Core Source," he muttered. "That's a difficult topic, female."

She nodded, taking note of the fact that he hadn't called her 'little girl'. "I'm aware. But my instincts tell me that he plays some sort of key role in this war…unofficial though it may be."

"I see."

That word alone made her wary. "Did you see something, just now?"

"Yes," he sounded hesitant. "I saw him awaken. It was like you were talking to him."

Awe dawned on her features. "I had a dream just like that last night."

"It is fated, then," he decided. "Two people never have the same visions. It's virtually impossible, especially since you've only spoken to me once before."

"Did you recognize him at all?" she asked hopefully.

"A little. I can't place him exactly, but I do know one thing. He is Saiyajin."

"Saiyajin?"

"A powerful race," he said, as his voice took on a hint of pride. "Like nothing else you'd ever seen."

"Did you know them?" she asked.

A smirk formed on his lips, and something thick and furry uncoiled from his waist. "Of course."

Bulma stared at the waving appendage. "You're a Saiyajin. You're like he is…like Goku was."

"Goku is no Saiyajin name," Satoru said flatly.

Bulma ignored him. "That does it. Goku was definitely an alien…it makes sense. He had to have lost his memory somehow, or maybe he was abandoned as a kid or something….he named himself, that's got to be it. No…no, that was Grandpa Gohan. That's it. He found Goku as a kid, I'd forgotten. It makes sense…." She paused. "Why the hell was an alien on Chikyuu anyhow?"

"Probably sent to purge it," Satoru shrugged.

Bulma frowned. "No way. Goku was too nice to kill anybody unless they hurt one of our friends."

Satoru mouth took on a skeptical shape. "He must have suffered a head injury. No Saiyajin would sit quietly on a purge-worthy planet full of non-Saiyajins."

Bulma glared at him, then thought about it. "He did get hit on the head as a kid…he told me there was an accident of some sort."

"There you go."

Bulma sighed. "This still isn't getting me anywhere. I've found out that I know three Saiyajins, but that doesn't help me in my goal."

"To kill Frieza," he supplied, looking amused. "Saiyajins can be useful for that."

"Not dead ones," Bulma muttered. "The purgers killed him."

"How do you know?"

"He'd have come for me otherwise," she blinked back tears.

Satoru was quiet.

"Anyway," Bulma said, rubbing one eye with the butt of her palm, "You're in here and the man in the Core Source is trapped. This doesn't help."

"It could if you set him free," Satoru pointed out. "With as much Ki as he produces a day, he's sure to have enough power to kill Frieza."

"That may be so, but he's been in there for so many years. Who's to say he's any good in a fight? I need a clear, adult mind to fight him, not someone disoriented who hasn't seen the light of day since he was a child."

Satoru sighed. "I don't know. He's important, that's certain, but otherwise…"

"I'm stuck."

"Yeah."

The two were quiet for a minute. Then Bulma said, "Why do you wear that cloak all the time?"

"Most people who come down here don't want to see me, and the prisoners tend to leave me be if they can't see me well."

"Why? Because you attacked Frieza?"

"No, because most people hate Saiyajins."

"What for?"

"Let's just say we were one of Frieza's best hit men."

"Were?"

"He destroyed our planet. I suspect the man in the Source and I are the only ones left." His voice was bitter.

"Oh, Kami," Bulma murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"What for? Your planet got bleached too."

"I know." She sighed shakily, then looked up at him, her blue eyes flashing with determination. "I'll kill him. I'll find away."

"I know you will."

She paused and bit her lip. "Let me see your face."

His mouth turned down at the corners. "That's probably a bad idea."

Bulma blinked. "Why?"

"If you ever get questioned, the less you know about me, the better," he answered. "They won't go as easy on you if they know you had my help."

"Famous troublemaker, huh?" she nearly smiled.

"I guess you could say that. In any case, if they do link us to each other, at least you can plead innocent."

"I could," Bulma agreed, and she swiftly reached forward and yanked the hood from his head.

Satoru gasped and flinched back, grappling for the cloth, but Bulma still had it in her fist. She gaped at him and said, "Oh my God."

"Let go," he snarled, tearing the hood away from her.

"You…you look just like him. Oh my God."

"Like who?" he demanded.

"Like Goku. The resemblance is uncanny. You've got to be related."

It was true. The man's skin was deeply tanned, a shade darter than Goku's, and there was a heavy criss-crossed scar on his left cheek, but other than that, they were perfect matches. The brown eyes, the strong cheekbones, the shape of his jaw and his nose…and his hair. The hair was a dead giveaway. It was exactly the same as Goku's, wild and spiked in all directions, colored the darkest black and falling into his eyes as thick bangs.

"You could be his father," Bulma murmured.

"Maybe I am." Satoru muttered, pulling his hood back over his head. "I saw my kid leave the planet before I tried to kill Frieza, and he blew it up."

"Saw as in with your eyes or with your brain?"

"Both."

It had to be… "Is Satoru even your real name?" The question sprang off her tongue for no reason except gut feeling, and her woman's intuition was rarely incorrect.

He glared at her. "No, and I'm not telling you what it really is, either."

"I could just go look it up on your file, you know. I have access to those."

"If you respect me at all, you'll leave my files be."

She bit her lip; he had her there. Changing the subject, she asked quietly, "Why did you try to kill Frieza?"

"I had a vision that he would wipe out my planet. He feared the Saiyajins. We were growing in number and in strength…it was only a matter of time before we overthrew him." He scowled. "I wasn't strong enough to stop him. And now look at us….all gone but for two, and both of us useless."

"No," Bulma declared, standing. "Not useless. We're going to overthrow Frieza…that man is key to it, I just know it. And so are you. With your ability…think of the possibilities! We just need to bide our time to escape, and let you both train. Like you said, all his Ki has to be enough…he just needs practice. We can do this." Her voice became desperate, almost breathy. "Even…even just knowing who you are gives me this…this indescribable hope like you wouldn't _believe_."

Satoru looked thoughtful. "Why would you trust me?"

"Because…" she had to think of a reason other than him being Goku's father, "Because of that vision. Like you said…it's fated." She paused, sitting on her knees in front of him. She pulled off his hood again, gently this time, and was pleased that he let her. "Will you trust me to get you out?"

He looked at her with narrowed, scrutinizing brown eyes. "If I see a vision of your betrayal, I won't help you."

She nodded. "That's understandable. Until then, will you trust me?"

He studied her once more, then nodded. "I trust you."

She smiled. An alliance had been formed.

He kept his resigned look, feeling guilty about lying to her about not knowing who the man in the Core Source was, but knowing that it was not his place to tell her. Every man had the right to introduce himself.

* * *

**Congrats to all of you who figured out that Satoru was Bardock. I think it was pretty clear, anyway. Bulma, however, still doesn't know his name because he's a paranoid dummy, although I suppose he has good reason.**

**Hell, I just think it makes things interesting XDD**

**Well, things are just beginning to get complicated. Zarbon's got his eye on our suspicious little genius, Muura's got boy problems, Raint has taken interest in B-chan, Ingo and Vani have a lil somethin going on but not really, Bardock is a liar, and YOUKNOWWHO is still asleep. Fun times. The more thorough response you guys give me, though, the more ideas I get :3**

**ALSO, please go on youtube and listen to Zarbon's Ocean Dub voice, if you haven't heard it already. It's just like...awesome man, just awesome. Anyhow, the rest of the Toriyama characters have their regular Funimation voices, in my mind. Picture whatever you wish...cept Zarbon. He is aussie, no questions (heh, I actually don't know if he's really supposed to be sounding Australian but hey, that's what it sounds like to me, so there.)**

**REVIEW! And don't forget to go to my profile and vote about my future story! *coughTFKfanscough***

**~KimiruMai**


	5. Step 1

**Holy crap, have I really not updated this story since January? Jeez…**

**Well I have an excuse…I have lots of drama going on and a ton of schoolwork to make it worse, so yeah…the joys of high school life. **

**Anyway, hopefully it won't take me so long to get the next one out. Maybe I should just focus on a single story for a while…school's out in 5 days, so I'll have more time to write…until I get a job…**

**Anywhoozles, story now. Sorry if it's full of errors. Edit tomorrow...or, not at midnight. **

**Disclaimer: Dude if I was Akira Toriyama I'd totally have made Vegeta SSJ3. Also, screw GT. **

**Song Prompt: Haunted ~ Skylar Grey**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Step 1. **

She felt renewed, but suspicious, and so she walked around the halls with two guns instead of her usual one, and looked over her shoulder twice as often as she usually did. She knew something; she knew something! She knew a single fact that may as well be the catalyst for Frieza's downfall.

The man in the Core is a Saiyan.

And not just that! While that one fact was the key to a very large puzzle (and of this she was one hundred percent sure), she had other things up her sleeve! Satoru was a Saiyan, and not just any Saiyan. He was Goku's father and he could see the future.

Really, it was like God was just dumping good things into her arms.

Now, what she could do with this information was a little bit more complicated. The only thing she was undoubtedly sure of was the fact that if she got the nameless man out, it would put Frieza at a severe disadvantage; and not only that, the man surely had more than enough power to defeat Frieza himself. He may not know the best fighting techniques, but if anything Satoru had said was true, it was that Saiyans had a natural instinct for fighting.

She could do this.

Now, how she would do this was an entirely different story. Frankly, she didn't really know what to do.

Except wake up the man, of course.

She felt nervous at the "get together" the day after, which just ended up being the gang talking and chatting. The girls teased Muura half to death, and when the poor girl tried to turn the tables on Vani and her obvious interest in Ingo, the pink haired alien shrugged and said, "Yeah, I know he's hot. Keep your hands off, by the way."

Bulma wanted to laugh and joke, but she felt nervous and timid, like they were going to find out her secret and rat her out. Could she trust them? They seemed like good, friendly people…but let's be honest here. Like Satoru had kindly pointed out, these people were purgers, and there was nothing she could do to change the fact. She didn't know where their loyalties lied, and she was afraid of asking. She was afraid of knowing.

Raint sat very close to her, and he smiled shyly. His black hair brushed her shoulder when he turned to answer something his brother had said, and Bulma smelled pine.

* * *

It was time to get started. She couldn't put this off any longer, or it'd never get done.

So Bulma skipped lunch again, and stayed in the Source Room, and when Turin finally left, she lowered the dosage.

It was a small reduction; she rewired the computer so that it would still say 17 units, even though now the man would be receiving 16.9. She had to be careful about this, wean him off it. She feared she'd kill him if she dropped the dosage too quickly, he'd go into withdrawal.

That could not happen. There would be no way to get him medical attention.

She just had to be careful.

So, day by day, she lowered his dosage by .1 units. This, however, seemed to be getting her nowhere, but that was fine with her. She hadn't quite worked out what to do with him if he woke up and escaped anyway.

On Day 17, the man was on 15.3 units. Bulma clacked away at the computer, rigging it to only show a smaller portion of his brain waves in the same way she had rigged the dosage meter, while Muura sat a few computers away, completely oblivious to the human woman's actions. The two were the only scientists left in the room; all the others had quit for lunch. Bulma glanced over at the purple haired woman every so often, but Muura showed no signs of being privy to what she was doing.

Exhaling somewhat nervously, Bulma turned back to the computer. The man's brain activity had been increasing lately, and it couldn't under any circumstances cause suspicion. It had augmented quite a lot, actually, almost like that of a conscious person. Hope fluttered in her chest as she read the numbers…perhaps, in a few days, she would see some real progress. That, of course, depended on how similar this man's brain patterns were in comparison to a human's. By Earth standards, he shouldn't awaken for a few weeks yet.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, exhausted and stressed. Muura glanced at her, and the two smiled halfheartedly at each other. When Muura turned back to her work, Bulma let the forced smile drop. Each time someone was in the room (and this was more often than not) she felt like she would be discovered. She was lucky to have as much genius as she did, otherwise by now she surely would have been found out. But Bulma Briefs could cover her tracks well, and she knew it, so for now, she was safe.

She sighed again, leaning back in her chair. She swiveled around to look at the monitors under the containment chamber, and what she saw nearly made her shriek.

He was looking at her.

He was looking at her!

She stared at him, and he stared at her. His eyes were the darkest shade of black she'd ever seen, much darker than she'd imagined, and she could swear he was reading her mind from the look in them. They were slightly muddled, like he was only half conscious, but for God's sakes he was looking at her!

She closed her mouth and swallowed, then glanced back at Muura. The alien woman didn't seem to have noticed Bulma's gasp of surprise, or the fact that she had practically jumped onto the back of her chair. Bulma's eyes darted nervously from Muura to the man again, and thinking quickly, she typed something on the computer. A few moments later, a computer on the far side of the room began beeping.

Muura looked up sharply, her eyes flashing that strange purple color that was only there for a second each time. "What in the world?" she wondered out loud.

"Muura, can you go check that for me?" Bulma asked politely, still typing furiously.

"Sure…"

As soon as the maroon haired woman turned her back, Bulma turned towards the man and hurriedly motioned for him to close his eyes. He just stared at her and blinked, very slowly.

She glanced back at Muura, who was still trying to figure out why she couldn't log into the computer, and waved at the man again, as though she didn't already have his full attention. She put her hand over her eyes and then took it down to see if he understood, but he still continued to look at her, his eyes wide open.

"I can't figure out what's wrong with it!" Muura cried, sounding as though she might start to panic.

Bulma laughed nervously and looked back at her, pulling on her blue ponytail. "I'm sure you can get it, don't worry!"

"I'm trying!" she wailed. "Oh, what if I broke it?!"

"You didn't break it, hun, gimme a second," Bulma's gaze darted from the computers to the man to Muura and back, and finally she clutched her hands pleadingly at him, mouthing, _Please go back to sleep!_

"Bulma!" Muura cried.

Bulma whirled, her fingers deftly tapping two keys on the keyboard of her computer. Immediately, the beeping one shut down. Muura blinked, her mouth falling open, and she sputtered, "What?"

Bulma shrugged. "Must have been some fluke," she said dismissively, crossing her fingers behind her back desperately.

Muura blinked. "But…it –"

"Hey," Bulma said brightly, quickly stepping up beside Muura and putting her arm around the woman to keep her from turning. "Can you do me a huge favor and go down to the cafeteria and get a water bottle? I'm parched, but I have to finish this program."

Muura frowned at the computer, then said, "Sure…"

"Thanks, Muura!" she said, a little bit too loudly, and pushed the shorter woman towards the door. Muura nearly stumbled, and looked back.

Bulma froze, and fought the urge to look at the man. But Muura only asked, "Are you sure you don't want something to eat?"

Bulma laughed shakily. "No, no, I had a food capsule. I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay…" Muura looked at her strangely (although whether this was because Bulma was acting strange or because of the fact that she'd actually eaten a food capsule instead of a real meal was unclear), and her eyes flashed purple again, but she didn't say anything else before she left. The door shut behind her, and Bulma felt herself holding her breath until she looked towards the containment unit again. To her surprise, the man's eyes were closed.

Had she imagined it?

She took a deep breath and let it out, and walked up to the machine. Her heartbeat thumped hopefully in her chest, which overshadowed the majority of her fear, but not all of it. She swallowed when she got close, and hesitantly reached out to press her hand against it. The moment her fingertips touched the glass, the man's eyes opened just a bit, and his onyx eyes quietly studied her through thick lashes.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her hand fell away from the glass as she took two steps back. His eyes followed her movement before eventually drifting up to her face. He blinked, very slowly, and his eyes opened further.

He was awake.

_By God in heaven, he was awake. _

She swallowed and looked him over, and finally she murmured, "Hello…"

He blinked again, but the sedative and healing liquid slowed the motion quite a bit.

Bulma cleared her throat and stepped closer. "Can you hear me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes seemed to come in and out of focus; they narrowed for a moment, squinting, and he blinked again.

Bulma opened her mouth to ask another question, but then she stopped and slapped her forehead. "You probably can't even register what I'm saying. I bet you're still half asleep."

He looked at her, and his black eyes moved around the room.

She stepped closer, and he looked at her again. He made no movements – he couldn't – but simply floated there limp, just as he had for the past 17 years. Bulma cleared her throat again and said, "I don't know if you can hear me, or even understand me, but I want you to know that I'm a friend. I'm going to get you out of here…eventually. But for now I need you to stay the way you are, and stay calm. If anyone comes in, you need to pretend you're asleep, okay? Can you do that?"

He looked at her, and his chin lifted, ever so slightly.

She was delighted. "You can understand me! Oh, this is so exciting! I can't believe it…" Her mouth turned up so widely that her cheeks hurt, and she sat down in front of the chamber in disbelief. "It's really starting to happen…"

His eyes followed her wherever she went, and she beamed with pride.

She put her hand over her chest to still her heartbeat, and she took a breath. He was beautiful, and he looked so smart. She wanted to hear him speak, and tell her his name. After a moment, she said, "My name is Bulma. I'm from a planet called Earth."

His charcoal eyes locked on her still, memorizing her face.

Muura came back in a moment later with the water, startling her, but when Bulma looked back at the chamber, the man looked dead to the world.

She smiled.

After that, Bulma stopped eating in the cafeteria completely, and always took a food capsule instead (something that was usually reserved for soldiers going on missions, but hey, with her position she could get just about whatever food she wanted…within reason). Sometimes Raint would stop her in the hallways, but she would be distracted while talking to him. Raint was a very handsome man, but getting a boyfriend was the last of her concerns at the moment.

Besides, she had another man to worry about.

* * *

She was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

He could not remember many things about the women in his old home; he remembered his mother's face, and his sister's, and that was about it. His sister had been but a infant, with a face too fat to be beautiful in the same sense, but his mother had been fiercely strong, and that fierceness had shown ferally in her splendor. But this woman…she was soft and delicate, with a gentle face and a kind smile, and blue eyes that were so bright and clear that they put the finest oceans to shame.

She was beautiful.

His mind had started to filter in sounds; he heard vague talking and the clacking of computer materials. He heard a melodic voice, and a smaller, quieter one, but he couldn't decipher anything that was said. After a while the words began to become clearer; he heard the words in Saiyago, but he knew that wasn't the language they spoke.

And then all the Ki's started to disappear, and there was only two left. He decided to risk it, and he forced his eyes open. The first thing he saw was a young woman, with bright blue hair and pale skin, and when she turned, he saw cerulean eyes.

She looked both surprised and horrified, and her gaze kept darting from him to her companion, She suddenly turned and tapped a few keys that ended up causing a horrid noise, which successfully distracted her friend and eventually led to said friend's departure. The woman appeared relieved, and she turned to him again with an awed expression.

She started to talk to him, and he strained to listen. He caught most of what she said; she was asking him to keep his consciousness a secret.

He could do that.

* * *

Raint sighed; she'd been avoiding him all week.

"You're just being stupid," Ingo chided, sliding his armor over his head and looking at himself in the mirror.

"I'm not kidding, I think she's avoiding me," Raint insisted, fingering a strand of hair. "I've barely seen hide or hair of her all week."

"Mmhmm. Bull. Hair smhair. You were checking out her ass and you know it."

Raint blushed and scowled. "So what if I was?"

"You're an idiot," Ingo said, licking his canine in the mirror. "You could just read her mind, if you're so curious."

"That's not ethical," Raint muttered.

Ingo snorted.

Raint's green eyes narrowed, and he snapped, "Some of us like getting women the honorable way."

Ingo held up his hands in surrender. "Hey now, I was just kidding. Calm yourself." He paused. "I just meant that sure as hell wasn't your reasoning."

Raint scowled again, but fell silent.

Ingo sighed and said, "You know, if you don't get a move on, somebody else will snag her. She's really pretty."

His twin was silent.

* * *

Every chance she got, she would go to see him. Every day, he looked just a little bit more awake than he had been. He watched her movements so closely that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. At first, she worried that perhaps he was planning to kill her (Saiyans, according to Satoru, had a low tolerance for annoying creatures, and Bulma knew as well as anybody that she was a complete chatter box) and that he was merely observing her to…well, you know, thou must know thine enemy to properly kill it, yada yada yada…

But eventually she decided that such a thing had to be nonsense, because his stare was too curious…too interested…to be dangerous. Sometimes she would say things to him, and his eyes would spark, and she wished so badly that he could talk.

"Earth was such a beautiful place," she told him dreamily. "Clear blue water and rich plant life, amazing creatures…" she paused and sighed. "You'd have liked it, I think. Goku did. He's my old friend…and a Saiyan like you."

And then his eyes would light up and she'd talk to him for ages, telling him old stories of her adventures as a child, until one day she got to the part about where her planet was overtaken, screened, and sold. Her blue eyes darkened with sorrow, and her mouth turned down deeply.

"It's my goal to avenge them," she murmured. "My people, my parents, my friends…all of them." She looked up to meet his eyes, and saw that they had turned an inky dark, and his brows had knitted slightly. She said quietly, "I'm sure you know what that feels like."

His black eyes narrowed with the promise of vengeance, and her lips pressed together with the threat of the tears that rose in her throat. She turned away and typed on the computer keys silently for a few moments before her fingers stopped, and she looked up again. She glared at the wall in front of her, as though it had caused all of her pain. Her beautiful features twisted in fury, her jaw clenching and something like a growl surfacing from between clenched teeth.

"Frieza will pay."

* * *

Turin stopped typing suddenly, and cracked his thin, bony knuckles. "I'm turning in early," he announced. "You are all dismissed."

Bulma blinked, and her heartbeat quickened. "Do you mind if I stay for a bit longer and finish this up?" she inquired.

He shrugged. "Not at all, but don't break anything valuable. And if you do break something, don't try to cover it up. I'll find out anyway. I always do."

Bulma forced a strained smile at her new boss's retreating back. Once he and the other were gone, she rolled her eyes, her lip curling in disgust. Turin thought he was so smart, and yet the old coot couldn't even distinguish her false data from true readings.

"Idiot," she muttered hatefully. She missed her days under Citadel.

Sighing, she stood up and walked over to the containment chamber, touching the glass without hesitation. The man's brows knitted, and his eyes opened, and he looked at her.

She smiled. "Evening, Saiyan person." She chuckled. "I've got to find out your name so I can stop calling you that…God, I wish you could talk."

His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"It'd be so great if you talked as much as me," she chattered on. "Although I doubt it. Sometimes you look so serious. With good reason, I mean! But you don't strike me as the kind who won't shut up…if you could talk, you know what I mean."

Behind his oxygen mask, his lips moved slightly. Bulma brightened; he gained a little bit more control over his body with every lowering of his dosage. Granted, it was an extremely slow process – weaning him off the sedative was difficult, and besides, she wasn't entirely ready to escape. But, after 8 days of him being awake, 14.4 units were being given, and he could blink with an almost proper speed, and his mouth had started to move.

She blinked suddenly, and asked, "Do you stay awake all day or do you sleep most of the time still?" Then she blinked again and sighed. "I guess you can't answer that. Oh, this is such a bother…where's a twin when I need one…"

He imagined she was talking about the two telepaths (whom he didn't know much about, since they discarded their scouters as often as possible) . He didn't really know if he actually wanted them around…the thought irritated him for some reason. Did they deserve to be in her presence?

One thing he did know, however, was that if he could talk, he'd tell her that he forced himself to stay awake solely for that one hour in which she was the only other person in the room.

The computer she sat at beeped, and she stopped talking suddenly, turning to see what it was. He wanted to grin; his stats looked pretty good, all things considered.

She typed a few things and printed out the files, then quickly erased them and came up with new data. The speed at which she worked was impressive; the woman truly was a genius, and boy did she know it.

She grinned wickedly. "Man, what I wouldn't give to see Turin's face when he finds out we're long gone, and right underneath his nose…" She trailed off suddenly, glancing at the clock. "Aw, shit, I'm going to be late for curfew!"

She finished the fake data with a few more clicks of the mouse and gathered up all her papers and stuffing them into the small bag she kept on her shoulder underneath her lab coat. She turned and smiled brightly at him as she turned off the florescent lights, and only the light of the chamber remained. She said, "Goodnight," softly and warmly, and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Her smile widened – she could only imagine how difficult it must be for him to be conscious, even if he was used to a greater amount of sedative. She'd sure as hell not want to sleep much if such a thing had happened to her, for fear of not waking up again.

Glancing around the hallway she was in, she quietly took out a few of the papers from her bag and looked them over. She hadn't been able to look at them very closely, and she didn't want to wait until she got to her room, because by then the first thing on her mind would be a shower and sleep. Besides, no one really roamed this particular quadrant of the ship at this time anyway.

Her blue eyes gazed over the data; his brain waves were impressive. The frequency was about 12 hertz so far, which was much higher than it should be, all things considered. The sedative drugs he was given put a lot of blue in his brain scans, but in the places that weren't overridden with blue, there was a lot of bright yellows and dark oranges, which meant that he was both intelligent and healthy, despite much of his brain not currently being in use (for instance, the lobes that controlled mobility, speech, and taste).

She smiled.

That smile fell off her face a moment later when she rounded a corner and literally crashed into Ingo. The papers spilled from her arms, and alarm bells rang fiercely in her head.

"Bulma! God, I'm sorry," Ingo apologized as she quickly started to gather the papers again. "Here, let me –"

"NO!" she cried. He stared at her. "I mean," she added, blushing with embarrassment, "I've got it, it's fine. No big deal."

Her face paled as he frowned and squatted to help her anyway. "Now what kind of man would I be if I just let you…" he trailed off suddenly, and Bulma nearly trembled.

In his hand, there was a graph. A graph that showed the brainwaves of a person with an impossibly high level of consciousness.

She felt a curious but suspicious touch brush the surface of her mind, prying only slightly and not digging deep. She looked at her friend, and his striking green eyes met hers behind long silver bangs.

"Bulma?" he asked, the friendly warmth in his smooth voice gone. "What is this?"

* * *

**Have fun with that cliffy, dears :3**

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**~KimiruMai**


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